The Clier Path
by Ophelia Davis
Summary: The White void, the doors that taunt him, they open him up to the Truth. This world he resides in, it's not what he thought. But little does he know, the Oracle knows his destiny, one he can't escape. May be yaoi later. Ed X ?
1. Miracle

Author's note: After checking through the world's crossovers (the world being the whole of fan fiction) I can now safely say that this is the first of its kind! A Fullmetal alchemist and Matrix crossover! Being noted that I am the first author to write an FMA and Friends crossover and the first to write an FMA and House, MD crossover (I still claim) then you can tell that my repertoire is a little unpredictable. Hopefully you won't disagree with this storyline either! I also have a logical person who knows a lot of the Matrix inside and out on my side to beta read, mostly to help me capture the very essence of Agent "Mr. Anderson!" Smith. Should be good guys! Please R and R! This chapter was named from the Paramore song called Miracle from the RIOT! album.

A number of screens were fixed into position. Equipment supported each item on the screen, hard drives, disks, printers, and a keyboard. He clicked at it, his eyes looking at each screen; all of them scrolled green numbers and symbols in a downward motion, quick; flickering so fast that it would be hard to read them. But he could. Tank could.

Everything here that he searched was familiar, everything seemed orderly, and he could see what he wanted, spy upon the world without the plugged people guessing. They had no clue to this man's existence, only inklings of being watched, of which were discarded for the feeling of normality.

It made him wonder, how these people could be so clueless to not see the obviousness of another worldly existence. Of course, he knew, because he was in on it. He had the inkling, he had a clue, he could see how this world, no, Matrix, was being controlled. This world was at the mercy to all the programs that ran it. Everything that made the Matrix what it is now, this very instant.

He knew all these programs, the rogue one that accounted for the belief and supposed existence of ghosts, werewolves, and vampires; he knew the program that maintained order and control. He knew them all. That was until…

'Morpheus? I think you should come see this.'

The man known as Morpheus turned towards him, looking over his shoulder.

'What is it Tank?'

'This program, it's like nothing I've seen before.'

'What do you mean?'

'Look here.' Tank pointed to a place on a screen, one that wasn't bombarded with symbols and numbers. It showed places in a greyscale imaging. 'This is the program in action.'

'Walls being moulded from the ground? That shouldn't be possible.'

'I know, but it's happening in front of us. Someone must have fed a new program into the Matrix.'

'You say it as if it's possible.' Morpheus frowned.

'I know, but how else can we explain this program?'

'Hang on; get a landscape view of this place. I don't think this a city we know.'

After numerous clicks on the keyboard, they could now see the whole city. Its buildings were unfamiliar, and not nearly as tall as the ones of Manhattan. The people as well were different; their clothes seemed old fashioned. Their cars were definitely old fashioned. 'Are we in the far past or something?' Tank awed.

'No, I don't even think this is the Matrix anymore. Can you find out the name of this city?'

'I could find a sign for you.' Clicking once again, his view neared closer towards what seemed to be the city's border. 'This sign here says, Central city. That's definitely not one we know. It's not even a city on Earth.'

'I don't think this is the Matrix. It must be some other Matrix.'

'How can you be sure?'

'I'm not. But I know someone who is sure. Get me connected. I'm going to the Oracle.'

'Wait, how shall we refer to this Matrix, for now?'

'It's the second world we've seen so…the Beta-Matrix.'

'Well, the Greeks always did seem to have the right idea.'

'While I'm gone, keep an eye on the Beta-Matrix, and make sure you tell me any new developments or discoveries you find.'

With that, Morpheus slid down into the seat, while Tank strode over to slide the plug in to his head.

'You're the boss.' Tank frowned inwardly. Suddenly, he didn't seem like he knew all the programs anymore. He was a student to this new Matrix, the Beta-Matrix.

-/\*_;)(-

These walls of green were familiar to him, in a sense of nostalgia that felt somewhat homely. It was the same old kitchen, the same old table that he sat at now with the same old smell of cookies that produced from the oven. The scent filled the whole room and would often linger. Of course, he didn't take much care in the lingering scent; it was just his mind, making him think it was cookies he was smelling. Whatever it was, it was pretty convincing.

The door from where he'd entered was itself an arch with an assortment of different coloured brown beads hanging like the improvising door they were. But as he sat, it wasn't long before their rattle filled the air as she pushed through them gently.

To say it had been a while since their last visit, she hadn't changed much. Well, this place hadn't changed much. The last time he had set foot in this apartment was when they needed to take Neo here, to see if he really was the One. Although the Oracle had said no to this thought, he still proved her wrong many times over. Anyone who could stop bullets in mid air was definitely the One, no doubt about it.

'Now, you wanted to see me about something.' She smiled graciously as she sat down at the table with him. 'You have discovered something…new.'

'Yes.' Morpheus began. 'We seem to have come upon a different world to even this one, a different Matrix. As far as we know, it exists alongside this one.'

'You're saying you've found a parallel Matrix, and it is a cause for concern.'

'I didn't say that.'

'But you were implying it.'

A smile crept up on Morpheus' face. 'Tank is doing more research on it, but as far as we've seen, it seems to exist in a time far further back than this one. Like, it's still the 1900's. The towns seem similar, but different. And also, there's a new program that hasn't been heard of before. It makes walls pop up from the ground. It's unexplainable. Like, maybe, a rogue program.'

'You mean like the program here that accounts for werewolves, ghosts and vampires.'

'Exactly. And-.'

'I see.' She sighed smoothly. 'I know the questions on your mind Morpheus, and I know what you want to ask.'

'If this new Matrix exists side by side with this one, then is there a program similar to Neo's? Is there a 'One' that exists in this second Matrix?'

'I already know my answer because I have already seen you ask this question. Yes, but he's not the 'One'. There is only one 'One'. Otherwise he wouldn't be the One.' She chuckled softly.

'So, how do we find him, or her? How will I know? This person could be vital to our fight against the machines, and I can't afford to spend as much time as I did finding Neo.'

'I understand your distress, but I cannot tell you where this person is in this Matrix. The Beta-Matrix I believe you've called it?' Morpheus nodded briefly. 'Look, as long as the Beta-Matrix exists, it will always stand parallel to our own. Some things, significant things, may stand opposing what we too know as significant. All I can really say is that this program exists as our guide. We should heed its information.'

'I see, Neo may walk this path alone, but he needs a guide, if he is to survive it.'

'No man should walk this path alone. I would take advantage of this opportunity, if we are to survive the machines.'

Getting up from his seat, Morpheus nodded his thanks and made for the bead curtains.

'Oh, and Morpheus, never judge by appearance. He's smart you know. You should listen to what he has to say.'

'Yes, thank you.' And Morpheus shifted through the bead curtains, alight with new hope and determination once again.

-/\*_;)(-

A white void stretched out before him. These sights? There was nothing to see, just the white. No, not even white. Just emptiness. This feeling? Nothing really, but it was somehow familiar, if a little different. He'd seen a white void before, but there was always a gate to look up at in both awe…and fear. There was nothing here this time. No smell; no sound. Just himself.

With each step he took, nothing in front of him belied movement, only that he could feel himself move, his boots clacking on the floor. It was the only feeling so far; the only sound so far.

This walk, it seemed to stretch on forever, and there was no exhaustion, just walking.

_Where am I anyway? This place, why am I here? Where does it lead? _

No sooner had the questions formulated, that a door materialised, the foreground before him to disrupt, like a television with bad reception. The door before him righted its reception and it stood there. Unmoving, still, the door shut before, and it took was for him to run towards.

It was his escape from this void, not an ominous gate, but a white plain door. The only thing that distinguished it, as anything was the shining silver door handle. He peered towards it narrowing his eyes.

_Is that really the way out? I'm sure it is but…why should I worry? A door's a door! _

He wasn't going to miss this, let him pass by, and he broke into a run, his right hand stretched out to catch the handle.

_This is my answer, I'm sure. Why I'm here, What I'm doing here, Where I am, How I got here, Who I am in this place, When I can leave. _

But before he could grab the handle, the door glitched out, and disappeared. As a result, he fell flat on his face, cursing angrily.

_Dammit! Damn door! Why does the answer always slip through my fingers? _

Picking him up, the white void was as normal, as it was before. He turned around on the spot, looking out at the vastness White. Rubbing his face from the ache, he scowled.

_Surely, it'll turn up again. There's always an answer. _

Suddenly, another glitch in the vast white, and another door, seemingly the same one.

_This time, I won't miss! _

Again, he ran for it, his arm outstretched. Quickly, he jumped, intending to dive into it. But, it disappeared just before his side could collide into the door.

_Fuck! Not again! _

Behind him, he heard that familiar white noise that the glitch produced. A door. He twisted around; trying to reach for the handle, but it disappeared as quickly as it came.

_Stop this! Stay still!_

Behind him again, another door transfigured into being, but this time, he didn't reach for it.

_Right, if I don't try for the handle, then it'll stay still. Maybe then it'll let me grab hold. _

Slowly, he got himself to his feet. He eyed the door with caution, but it did nothing to move. A smirk crept onto his lips.

_It'll stay where it is this time. It has to!_

Slowly, he stepped forward… it didn't budge. Promptly, he jumped for the door, but it glitched and disappeared. Once again, he landed on his face. But this time, tears pricked in his eyes, he felt so hard down by. His determination had been zapped.

_Why? This isn't fair! I just…want to get out of here. I want to be shown the door. Why are you teasing me? _

Suddenly, an array of doors glitched into being, surrounding him this time. Surrounding him, all close knit.

_I don't care anymore. You'll just disappear again. _

"Not unless you don't want it to."

An ominous voice cut through the white, loud, and somehow promising. He clutched his ears tightly; it hurt to hear, as if it was for the first time. Was this why a newborn baby cried, when it first heard the coos of the surrounding doctors and parents, and cringed at their inconsiderate loudness, obviously not aware that it was something it wasn't used to?

_What do you mean? _

"Every time you search, you're always so determined that this path you're on won't lead to misfortune or tears. So much so that, when the answer finally arrives, and you're so overjoyed, there's always that tinge of disbelief. It's that doubt that keeps you from the answer. When you first found the answer, you weren't sure that its existence was infallible. That's why, when you jumped for the answer, it slipped away. Keeping you from the answer. Once you lost that trust in the answer, every time you found another answer, you treated it with caution, and doubt, so once again it disappeared."

_What are you trying to tell me? Never learn from my mistakes? _

"No, always learn from your mistakes. Repeating them will be your undoing. What I'm trying to say is that you should never doubt yourself. Doubt brings fear; fear brings incapability, and incapability brings nothing fruitful. If you don't doubt or trust, then you'll never be rewarded."

Curiously, he eyed each door, unsure still. There were so many of them, but which one could he choose?

"Well? Why don't you find out the answer? Do you still doubt?"

_How can I be sure which one is the right one? There are more of them. The answer could be anything now. _

"Why don't you pick one, and find out for yourself? Nothing can keep you from the answer. Only yourself."

_Because of doubt? Right?_

"Yes, now you're getting it. You're learning from your mistake."

He picked himself up from the ground, looking at each one.

_Who are you? Why are you here? _

"Of course, you have the right to question me, but I'm just here to show you the door. All you have to do is walk through it."

Satisfied with that answer, he reached out for a handle, picking at random, but it disappeared.

"You still doubt me."

_No! I just want to get back-._

"Home? What is home? What is here? What is there? What is reality? What is fantasy? What is right? What is wrong? What is good? Bad? Black? White? Fallible? Infallible? Tell me, how can you be sure that where you are is not just another dream? Maybe you can tell me, what it's like to live your whole life in a dream? How would you know when you woke up? Would you still be asleep?"

_STOP! I don't understand! I don't know the answers! Why won't you tell me? _

"Because soon you will understand, soon you will know the answers, because soon I will tell you."

_Soon? _

"Yes, just believe that you will, and you will know."

_How soon?_

"Soon, that's all you need to know."

Behind him, a door clicked open.

_How did that happen? I didn't touch it. _

"You're starting to believe me. You're losing doubt, and that release of doubt pushed it open. Now, the answer is open to you."

Without hesitation, he whizzed around, looking into the open doorway. This place was dark; the skies were bleak. But what he saw could not compare to anything he could imagine. There were rows; rows upon rows of deep pink egg-like tubs, arranged up black-wired stalks. Large machines glided between each stalk, picking up the eggs that lay upon the black ground, and laying them in their back pouches. It was as if, these eggs were being harvested.

_What is this place?_

"Well, what was the question to this answer?"

_Is there something more to life, a reason for why when I wake up, things happen that I can't control. Or, why I can only look through my own eyes, and never know what other people are seeing. To put it simply, life. I guess the question to this answer is life. _

"You're beginning to question your existence, your very purpose in this reality, and you want to know if this is all there is, or if there's something more to see. Or maybe, if what you see is really there, if the colour you see is red or really blue. If what you feel, or smell is something solid and existing, or just something triggered by what your mind wants you to believe. You seem to think that your mind keeps playing tricks on you. That what you see is really something created in the way that someone else wants you to see it. You don't feel in control of your life; like someone else is pulling the strings."

_How can you be sure that this is what I'm wondering?_

"Because the wonder always starts the same. Life is the first subject to be put under question, and before you know it you're questioning your very sense of existence. I know because the feeling was the same for me once before. That was, until I began to truly see."

_See? But I'm seeing now. _

"No, you're not. All you see is white. I would call that nothing. Only 'til you open your eyes and truly begin to see will you understand your own curiosity."

_I don't understand. I can see through this doorway. I can see the eggs and the machines. _

"Because through that doorway, you're seeing what you want to know. On this side, you're seeing what you do know, and what you've seen for your whole life."

_Nothing?_

"Yes, nothing; now, open your eyes and you'll see. You'll see what I mean."

_What will I see, when my eyes are opened? _

"That, you'll find out, once your eyes are opened."

_When will that be?_

"Soon, my friend, soon. Be patient, but it won't be long. Now, open your eyes."

-/\*_;)(-

'So, what did she say?' Came Tank's inevitable question as Morpheus was unplugged from the fur-lined seat.

'First, what else have you found out?' He strolled towards Tank, looking over his shoulder at the screens.

'Central city seems to be the country's capital. The country itself seems to be called Amestris, well, from as far as I could make out from signposts anyway. Its people don't speak the English language, or any I've heard as of yet. They would be hard to communicate with.' Tank reasoned. 'Now, what did the Oracle tell you?'

'There's a program in the Beta-Matrix, one that's similar to Neo, its essential though inferior to Neo's purpose.'

'So, another wild goose-chase?' He sighed.

'Not necessarily, we have a better idea of what we're looking for this time. We need to look for someone who stands parallel to Neo, his exact opposite you could say, though a boy, so I've been told.'

'So we're looking for a boy who's short with light, long hair, light eyes, and smart?'

'You say it as if it's the hardest thing in the world to track down.'

'But there's no way this kid is going to pop up right when we need him. We'll have to search the whole country, even the neighbouring ones if we have to, and with the little information I have on this Beta-Matrix, it's going to take a while to adjust to its surroundings. You might not realise it, but this search will take weeks to complete, maybe even years, which we don't have.'

'Then I suggest you start now. We have no time to waste, as you have so clearly pointed out. I want you to download whatever resources you can from this Matrix and pull up as many profiles on civilians and servicemen alike as possible and as fast as possible. I want to see maps, data, communications, medical logs, unfamiliar technology and other resources on things that we don't know in our computer log. We have to keep references to what we find.'

Tank frowned forlornly, already setting to work. There was no way he could complain, not while his master had a tight clutch on his leash, ready to snap it back whenever he fell off track and into distraction.

'Oh, and just so you know. If this Matrix has existed long before we've found it, then chances are the Agents already know of it, there may be some walking in there now. Be careful, and be quick. This program has to be found, before the Agents get an idea into their heads to destroy it, so, no pressure.' He smirked finally.

Quietly, he left Tank's side and made away from the room. Though this would be hard from here on out, this discovered existence was new, and he had to admit: it had been a long while since he'd felt the thrill of the chase, of searching for something, and oh how he missed it. He was glad to feel it tugging at his chest, making it beat faster and harder with anxiety. Hopefully, this anxiety would be soothed sooner than last time. He couldn't bear to deal with it for years like last time.

Author's note: What did you think? Please R and R. This is the first time I'm working with something as complicated as the Matrix, so any input on storyline suggestions would be great. As a note, I shouldn't really be starting stories as I've still got other stories on here that aren't complete and also plan to put some up soon. I'm also in the middle of my GCSEs and as many on here will know, the exams are just around the corner. So I will remind you that the updates on this story will be few and far between. Once it gets to summer though and the exams are over, I will be back with a vengeance!

Thanks you guys; you supply my hobby!

Ophelia Davis


	2. The Night

Author's note: The chapter is called The Night, a song by Disturbed on the album Indestructible. It suited the song, and it's got a nice tune.

Anyway, hello there. Thanks for all the reviews, I do enjoy receiving them, because you enjoyed reading it (well, the reviews were all a thumbs up perspective, so I'm glad). I mean, this crossover hasn't yet been explored, so, I'm glad it's getting some good reviews so far.

Anyway, if anyone was questioning the different uses of the "" and '', it's "" for Amestrian people, and '' for people from the Matrix or real world. "" are also applied to those speaking the Amestrian language who are not from the Beta-Matrix, so, Morpheus for example.

For thought, it's all in italics.

Right, about this Amestrian language that you see later, this was made by my sister a couple of years ago, and I picked it up for recycling. She's got the credit; I just have the permission. I know it looks all long and confusing (and random) but honestly, it has set rules. Hopefully later on we may develop a better version that's more short hand. Now, when will I have the time for that? Lol.

Anyway, this is chapter 2.

Ophelia Davis

He shot up from his bed, gasping for breath, his blanket wrapped around his neck and body, as if being attacked. In his confusion, he ripped it from him, throwing it to the floor. He breathed quickly and deeply, trying to regain what lost control he once had; trying to regain some sort of composure. The composure he needed to face this reality, and not the one from before. He stared around him with sleep-dazed eyes, trying to make out hopeful outlines in the blackness that he faced.

From somewhere almost distant, light perpetrated a flowing outline, and as it gave sufficient light, he began to make out more outlines. Another bed, a chair, and someone sat close by. The outline seemed looming, large, almost terrifying, but as far as memory served, it was the comfort he needed. He looked up to the top of the outline, staring up at the red looming orbs, and smiling.

"Brother, are you ok? You looked like you were dreaming." The boy sighed, and scrabbling along the side, his hand almost knocked over a lamp, but he saved it and found the string to pull it on.

The light glowed and he found where the blanket had been thrown onto the floor, the other bed to his right, the chair that was positioned between the two beds, the curtained window that had supplied the moonlight and flowing outline, and the large figure that was sat close by on another chair. A suit of armour, the horns that adorned the suits body should have been intimidating to say the least, but they were familiar, which is why he smiled up at the suit of armour that called him Brother.

"Yeah, just a nightmare, I think. I'm fine."

"Good, you just seemed troubled; you were tossing about a lot."

"Yeah, no, I'm fine, really. Just something about voids, doors, eggs and machines and all that stuff, no I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" They seemed to be a menacing lilt to the young voice, a sort of restrained mirth. The glow of his eyes seemed to narrow, becoming dull in the lamp light.

"Yeah, I've just said so a bazillion times. Are _you _alright, Al?"

"It's _you _who should be worrying about _yourself_." Again, the mirth was restrained, as was this new hardness. It seemed almost daring and adult. The suit of armour stood up from his seat, looming down on his with a hint of smirk portraying from his soul.

"A-Al?" He backed himself up against the headboard. He'd lost the blanket; now he felt exposed to the dangers. "What's up? Seriously?"

Suddenly, an arm stretched out from the gap between the helmet and the armour itself. Its hand was large, the forearm cloaked in a deep green suit, the cuffs of the white shirt sticking out smartly. It forced out its arm further, knocking the helmet off. A foreign head replaced the helmet's use, and as the head's owner jumped forth, the armour fell back, limp and lifeless.

He could now see the man that had taken over the armour. He'd jumped onto the bed, clutching the boy's throat tightly in his grip. Through narrowed eyes he could see dark receding hair, his eyes were cloaked by sunglasses, and he wore a dark suit that gave a sheen of dark green in the lamplight.

The man's hand clutched tighter, his fingers joining from each side. The boy tried to scrabble at the man's hands, trying to prise them from his throat. He tried to struggle, but the man overpowered him, straggling his hips.

He shot up from his bed, screaming, the blanket tangled around his neck. He ripped it off, switching on the bedside lamp.

He huffed, his sheets soaked in sweat, and he looked up, finding Al staring down at him in alarm.

"Brother, are you alright?'

"Y-Yeah…"

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm going to back to sleep." He pulled the blanket pieces from off the floor, and clapping his hands he reunited the pieces. Pulling it over him, he switched off the light. But he couldn't get back to sleep, how could he? That man would come back.

-/\*_;)(-

They all stood around Tank, staring at him in wonder, Morpheus stood beside Tank, patient in the hearing of an explanation.

It seemed hard to fathom, somehow it didn't make sense, or they didn't want it to. A new, or rather other Matrix meant more and new things, new technologies, way of life, language, but also new threats, and promises of more despair; more so than victories. Yes, it was a hard logic to fathom, that something different and more could possibly exist along side them, like an alien world existing as it were Mars and Earth twisting in space together side by side. A planet that they existed on and _knew _contained life now staring upon a once lifeless orb, wondering just how, why, when, what and who put life on its crimson ground, or made it seemed that it existed beneath the surface, without the notice of this more versatile and living planet that had been by its side all along.

Both Matrices, twisting, spinning, living, both unaware of each other's existence until now; it seemed almost monumental, but it was still hard to fathom. As everything was here, it was hard to fathom.

Neo rubbed his chin in a questioning manner, his mind still spinning. Another Matrix, to him, meant another One, and another threat. Someone would come and kick him from his podium, and the Agents would take this opportunity to take them both down for good. There was a saying for this, but he'd been here a while, and so had forgotten the notion.

He eyed Trinity curiously, for she too seemed confused, her eyes hardened and narrowed at the news. What could this mean for her; for them all? So why did Morpheus seem to understand the situation _more _than them? Should he not be confused, suspicious, and maybe even afraid? Neo knew him to be a great man, but even a man such as he was capable of fear, so where was it?

'So,' Neo began, 'you're saying that there's a Matrix just like this one, but different somehow?' A smirk quirked up on Morpheus' lips, something he didn't expect.

'I thought by the silence it would've already sunk in, but yes, a Matrix just like this one; the Beta-Matrix. Tank has already started to research its ways and its means of life. So far, it seems to have the same atmosphere as this one, so it must have human life. From our findings, the humans there seem to exist in a sophisticated society much like the one on Earth, but they are ruled by Military order, not like Earth where they are ruled by a Monarch or Democracy.'

'But there must be other similarities too, right?' Trinity asked.

'Of course, they are the same life forms, and they know language, they are intelligent, so we shouldn't treat them differently from ourselves, should we visit their Matrix.'

'Is that even possible yet?'

Tank's ears pricked to the question, 'I've been trying to establish a connection with the Beta-Matrix, but so far, the connection is unstable, it may take a while before we have a full connection and we can really learn from it.'

'So that's a big no for data probe?' Neo quipped.

'Correct, we cannot set foot in it yet. We'll have to wait until the program is found before we take the risk.'

'The Program?'

'Yes. From what the Oracle has told me, then whatever holds significant to them, will be opposing what holds significant to us, so this program will oppose Neo in many different aspects. He will be his exact opposite.'

'So what do we do, just let this kid come here and ruin everything?'

'He won't ruin _anything _Neo, he is essential.'

'Essential to what?' Neo burst out, 'My path? My destiny?'

'Exactly, and without him, we may not be able to succeed against the machines.'

'Without him? We don't _need _him! I thought I was the _One_! I don't need any help from some other kid, alright?'

'You are the One! There is only one One, but there is only so much time we can waste arguing about this! We must find the boy! If we don't, then Zion falls to the machines!'

Neo averted his gaze with the frustration, angered by the decision.

Tank continued to click on his computer, until he stopped, looking up to Morpheus.

'I've found it, the citizen database of the country.'

'Really? Don't stop then, I want it searched. See if you can do a description search on it, to filter out all the persons that could match our description.'

'So, to run through the description, light long hair, light eyes, short and smart?'

'Yes,'

'So are you calling me stupid?' Neo snarled, pointing at himself.

'No, we never said that.'

'You meant it. Someone opposite to me, someone smart, right?'

'Stop taking this personally and _grow up_.'

Morpheus went back to Tank, looking over his shoulder, apparently ignoring any further statement from Neo, so he stormed off, away from Trinity and the others, boiling with silent rage.

'We've pulled a few thousands on results on the database.' Tank replied, once the search was complete.

'That's a start,' Morpheus almost smiled, but contained himself, 'but try and narrow the search as much as possible, height requirements, hair length, occupations, even age if you must. It has to be something that makes them stand out as intelligent somehow. Just keep going.'

'This may take a few hours.' Tank sighed, 'but I'll do it.'

'Good,' Morpheus looked up, signalling to a small boy stood next to Trinity, he was thin with thin brown hair. 'Mouse, help him with the search.'

'Y-yes, sir.' He crept past him, taking up a seat at another monitor.

-/\*_;)(-

He sauntered across the path, wearing his red coat that dangled at the back of his knees. His brother, the suit of armour walked along side him, silence breached them both.

"Brother, did you finish that report on Xenotime that you had to make to the Colonel yet?"

"No, I was too busy being strangled by my bed last night, I didn't find the time."

"You know he's going to get mad."

"Yeah, but it won't change the fact that I didn't do it."

"Come on, Ed. What's bothering you all of a sudden? Usually you say you don't care to high hell what the Colonel thinks. You're not acting yourself."

"I'm just a little put out, that's all."

"About what?"

"Why all the questions all of a sudden?"

"I'm just worried."

"Well, quit it. There's worried, and then there's you. Just relax. I'm going to be in and out, no problems."

The two entered the headquarters, Edward trying to drag out the time from now and the time when he would enter the Colonel's office, and receive his punishment. The Colonel would probably spit blood, acting like he deserved a court-martial when it was nothing short of a smack on the hand.

He entered the Colonel's office, his brother Al had taken a seat in the break room, probably already reading a cheap book.

He faced the Colonel, who sat before him with laced fingers, his elbows propped on the desk in its ritual way. His dark narrow eyes stared back at him; he probably already sensed the inevitable. Ed could feel it too; hanging in the air in its residual way.

"I didn't receive your report, Fullmetal." His voice lingered, waiting for a response, but he didn't grant him one, instead fidgeting where he stood. "Why didn't I receive your report from your mission in Xenotime?"

"I didn't find the time…"

"You were there at least a few days, you could've have written at least something then. Or maybe it's just your priorities. After all, you could've written it as you went, adding to it everyday like a diary." He spoke mockingly.

"Do I look like a pussy to you?" Edward snarled with bared teeth.

"Do you want me to answer that question?" Roy smirked.

"No, just court-martial me, and let me go, I don't have time for you today."

"What are you in a hurry for, something better? I don't think so, Fullmetal. Now, you are going to sit down on that couch, and write that report. Do you understand?"

Ed slumped down in the couch, returning Roy's instructions with a look of scorn burning in his eyes.

"And what do I write with, or on?"

"Here's some paper, and a pen, smartass." Roy took out a jotting pad and a pen from his draw and threw it into Edward's lap. "Don't leave until it's done."

-/\*_;)(-

'That's it! Yes!' Tank cheered under his breath, elbowing the air downwards.

'What did you find?' Mouse asked, jumping out of his seat and lingering over Tank's shoulder.

'Get Morpheus, I think I found the kid. It may be a long shot, but it's a start.' He grinned.

Morpheus strolled up to Tank upon Mouse's shout, bending down to look over his shoulder.

'Did you find him?'

'Yeah, it's in a different language, like in a Latin alphabet, but I can get the gist of it. Well, I've been downloading the language and translating it into our own English, so this is what I got.'

'You got a picture?'

'Yup.' He clicked on the file, and the photo popped up. The boy had a cute sort of face, his eyes big and golden, and his hair stood out on his face as bangs at the front and tied back in a braid, shiny and blond. 'His name is Edward Elric. He doesn't have a registered IQ, but he's part of the State military as a State Alchemist.'

'Alchemist? What did you find out on that?'

'To them, it's a science to do with the transmuting of one thing to another on the basis of Equivalent Exchange. They use sketches called Transmutation circles to work it. Ok, I don't understand it _all_, but obviously this kid does, or the military wouldn't accept him. I've checked up some files, on the science and it looks difficult. Even _you _would stump up.'

'Anything else?'

'He's registered here as being 4"11, and he's 16 years old, and here's the kicker. He joined the military at the age of 12, the youngest to do so. I'd say he was a prodigy, wouldn't you?'

'Good, that's good, right, how's the connection from here to the Beta-Matrix?'

'Still a little patchy, but it's been a good few hours, I would say there shouldn't be much problem on the reception.'

'Good, I'm going to call him. Get a lock down on his location.' Tank typed away at his keyboard, finalising locations.

'I got him; he's sat in an office in the military headquarters, that's him there.' He turned a monitor towards Morpheus, and he could see him truly for the first time. Moving, writing left handed, giving daring looks towards the man sat at the desk.

'That must be a superior officer.'

'Oh, him? I thought I saw his file earlier. He's a Colonel in the military, and a State alchemist himself. Flame, they call him.'

'Flame?'

'Well, the military seem to have code names for their alchemists, probably for undercover reasons?'

'And yet here we are with all their information. What do they call Edward?'

'Fullmetal.'

'Can you get the number to the Colonel's phone?'

'Already have.'

'Read it out for me.' Morpheus brought out his cell phone, and typed in the number according to what Tank read out. He waited for the answer, watching at the same time through the monitor. He saw the Colonel stretch his arm out lazily for the phone, picking it up.

"Khoor? (Hello)"

'Edward Elric.'

"Huh?"

'Edward, now.' He watched the monitor, and the Colonel seemed to nod in some sort of understanding. From his cell phone he heard the off sound of foreign chatter, before the boy was stood by the desk with the phone in hand.

"Khoor?"

'I'm honoured to speak to you, Edward Elric.'

"Zekadiu gr brex pihade'? (What do you mean?)"

'You don't understand me, but we have an understanding, you and I.'

"Zekadiu duh brex vadeble'j? (What are you saying?) Khoor? (Hello?)"

Tank tugged on his sleeve, 'Give it up, Morpheus, he doesn't understand you.'

'It's a shame that we can't speak more fluently.'

"Zedliw! Gr l ne'rez brex? (Wait! Do I know you?) l'yih kihadug brex ivurep vrepihezekhuh eihiruh! (I've heard you from somewhere before!)"

'I must go, we will speak again soon, though.'

"Zedliw! Guhadep jexeb! (Wait! Dream guy!)"

'Good bye.'

"Gre'w jr! (Don't go!)"

But Morpheus hung up, leaving the boy clutching the phone from the monitor view.

'Sounded a little harsh, didn't you?'

'He couldn't understand me, no matter; can you get me a recording of the phone message? I want you to try and translate it for me.'

'Translate it?'

'Yes, like you did for the file page. If you can gather as much information on the language as possible, we can make it into a lesson on a training program. If we should go there, we need to be able to speak their language.'

'Right.' Tank sighed, clicking away at his keyboard once again. Morpheus left, leaving Tank alone to watch the boy struggling in blabbing confusion.

-/\*_;)(-

"Who was that?" Roy asked curiously with an arched eyebrow.

"Don't know, he sounded foreign."

"What did he say?"

"Not a clue; didn't understand a word he said." Edward frowned, putting the receiver down on the phone.

"Strange though, how did he get a hold of my office number?" He frowned, almost dismissively.

"No idea, anyway," He sat back down, taking up the pad and pen in his lap, and began scribbling down his report, starting from the first line from when he left off. "I've got to get this report done, right?"

"Are you sure it won't bother you? I mean, what did you mean by Dream Guy?"

"I-It's nothing," He answered, not taking his eyes off the page, "He just- it's nothing."

His pen continued to scribble across the page, forming words in their way. Roy frowned irritably. It was certainly a strange phone call; certainly hard to fathom.

A few hours later, the report lay finished next to him on the couch, the pen resting on the paper, keeping its place on the page with the lid. The Colonel took up the pad, and tore the report out, but Edward didn't look up, or flinch. Instead, silently, he snored gently, curled up with a cushion at his head. He lay on the couch, his legs dangling over the edge and hardly touching the ground.

He watched the boy curiously, sitting down where the pad had once been, eyeing him without suspicion, just rather, wonder. The boy hardly stirred from the extra weight, he just slept, his head facing the ceiling. Slowly, he raised a hand to him, his fingers hovering just centimetres above his head. He wasn't sure what to do. _Would he notice?_ He found himself wondering, _if they were to accidentally stroke him? Would he fly off the handle? _He lowered them ever so carefully. They were hardly a hairs width away from his head.

_Oh Ed, you are a curiosity. What would I do, if you were gone all of a sudden? It wouldn't be the military without you._

A fingertip brushed through a bang, just so gently, and he didn't stir. What else could he get away with?

His fingertips hovered lower, stroking down his cheek, meeting under his chin and tingling down his neck.

Suddenly, "Brother? Are you done?" The voice rang from its metallic shell, and his face twisted to it. Ed stirred just so, and he awoke suddenly, gasping. He coughed a little, but twisted behind him, to find Alphonse there, looking over him.

"Oh, yeah, I finished my report," he twisted back round to Roy, who sat there, his hand still hovering, before he withdrew it quickly, coughing. "Did you get it?"

"Yeah, it's on my desk. I'll check through it later, but yes, you're free to leave." He stood up, retaining his order, before Edward stood up from the couch, stretching, and turning to leave. Roy sat back at his desk, relaxed somewhat. Watching Edward leave his office, he saw the boy's head turn, to look back at him, but quickly turned it back, when he saw Roy watching from the corner of his eye.

_I wonder; do you feel what I feel?_

-/\*_;)(-

A corridor stretched out before him on both sides, doors lined its void-white walls. White doors they were, with silver coloured doorknobs, the same as before, but this time, they had the restrictions of an immovable corridor, unlike the lack of restraint that the void carried.

He peered at both sides carefully, before picking randomly at a direction to take. He took the right side, walking along the corridor, hoping for a door at the end that might lead to a stairwell to leave this building, but he couldn't find one. Doors lined the walls on both sides, but they weren't doors to apartments, or were they? He couldn't be sure, they weren't numbered after all.

"What's the matter?" _That same voice, from before! The phone call! Last night! _"Do you still doubt?"

_Of course not! I just don't know the exit. I'm trying to get out of here. There are so many doors; I don't know which the right one is._

"Didn't you learn anything from me before? There is no mistake to be gained, just another answer."

_Because the best answers, we learn on our own…_He breathed, and the voice seemed to chuckle softly.

"Of course, now, stop here, just pick this one," Edward stopped straight where he was.

_Which side?_

"Any, it doesn't matter." He twisted around to the left side, and looked the door up and down. It was the same as all the others, nothing special about. It had the same coat of paint and silver doorknob as all the others, so why was he still afraid of opening it? "Are you scared?"

_Huh?_

"Are you afraid of what might be on the other side? Don't be. Open it, and find the answer." Almost shakily, he took a hold of the doorknob. He breathed, waiting for his heart to still, before he cautiously twisted it open, and looked down upon the sight with wonder.

The place was like a cave, but large, the walls were jagged with earth, and below him people were gathered. Torches lit the cave, low music bass thrummed through the walls, the people stomped their feet erratically, as if they were trying to make the ground beneath them quiver with their might.

He could feel the power they were trying to portray, their might, and their energy. Sweat glistened down their bodies, it rolled down their brows, and it dripped from their cord-like hair, as if all were drenched.

He watched in wonder upon this festival of sorts. His own people would've danced around a campfire, these people didn't need such a wonder, just music, and their own feet.

Suddenly, the walls quaked, but they stopped, staring at the walls. He looked up to the top of the cave, still a kilometre away from his door. Then a blast came through the wall, flecks of rubble dropped upon them, and they scattered like ants. Long winding arms, metal from how their surface reflected the cordial light below. Long, twisting, machine-like vessels came through. They were large, swarming down upon the ants below as if like fish in an ocean, all following a group in a beautifully shimmering swarm, all in together. But, one dispersed from its group, having spotted the light from behind the open door.

He saw it fly towards him, his eyes spread wide with panic. He tried to shut the door, but it was upon him. Its winding tentacles crashed through the wall at the door's side, a pincer on the end of one grabbed his throat, pinning him to the wall behind. Blood gushed, he flailed, panicking.

And then he heard footsteps coming down the hall.

They were smooth, obviously dressy by sound and nature. The man, who owned them, wore a deep green suit, owning his sunglasses, like a hound became attached to its bone.

"You seem to wonder," The man spoke for the first time since he saw him last, his voice smooth and charming, but hostile and daring, "why it is you, who witness the destruction of ants, should suddenly become involved in a fate that is none of your business, hm? It is because, child, you know more than you should, and so should be removed like the disease you are. Just by seeing this, and me, do you become too aware of an existence that should be, what is it now, secret?" Slowly, he took the sunglasses away from their position, and he could only stare upon the man's icy blue eyes: piercing in nature. "I am a program, here to dispel those who are aware of the Matrix's existence, as you are now. You, bluepill, shall meet your end here. But, tell me this…" he was silent, but his mouth opened, his voice foreign and familiar, "Brother? Are you done?" the metallic voice rung out smoothly.

The pincers crushed down harder, and he stirred, gasping awake suddenly. He coughed, as if still being choked by that pincer, but he saw Al watching over him,

"Oh, yeah, I've finished my report." He twisted back to see the Colonel sat next to him, his hand hovering just so, "Did you get it?" The Colonel coughed, and withdrew his hand,

"Yeah, it's on my desk. I'll check through it later, but yes, you're free to leave."

_Were you the pincer in my dream? _He got up off the couch, walking over to Al, and towards the exit of the office. Curiosity still seemed to have its hold on him, and he looked behind from his shoulder; from the corner of his eye, he saw the Colonel staring back from his seated position at his desk. His head whizzed back, facing the exit as he left.

_That feeling, it's back again? I can't describe it. _All he could picture now were those narrow eyes, staring back at him, as if…as if irresistibly. They chased away those cold blue eyes, and his heart began to warm up from the hearth of those black pools. A notion twisted in his stomach, like butterflies swarming and fluttering anxiously in his gut. _Were you taking the pincer away?_

He wasn't sure, but how could he? This new feeling, it certainly was hard to fathom.

Author's note: I'm almost half-way through my GCSEs, so to cheer myself up, I think I'll just have this up now. I enjoyed your reviews, and I would like to hear more from you. Anyway, thank you for your support so far, and I think the next chapter will come up once the GCSE exams are over and once the fourth chapter has been written. I like to stay ahead of you guys so that I'm not overly pressured to write a chapter. I feel better writing at my own pace, which is why I turn out better things in one of these instead of in a flippin' English language exam. Damn it, two hours ain't enough.

So thank you for those reviews so far, and keep reading, because I love to hear from you guys.

Ophelia Davis


	3. Escape

Author's note: Sorry this chapter took a while to get here; there was waiting on reviews for chapter 2 (because I don't operate without them), there was having to write chapter 4 (and the age it takes to type up the Amestrian language according to a specific key I have written down) and then the normal waiting period that I allow between each chapter, because they'll be no one reviewing if chapters came out like a shot. Anyway, hopefully this will keep you busy while I write up chapter 5 (no, I haven't got it wrong there, I _mean _chapter 5).

Also, thank you for the reviews you have given so far, they are very much appreciated, and keep reading. Any support and/or ideas for future chapters you are willing to give will be humbly accepted. (I have ideas for the future chapters, but maybe more of an idea with the Frenchman and Architect would be most appreciated.

This chapter is called Escape, a song by 30 Seconds to Mars from the album This Is War.

Keep reading,

Ophelia Davis

-/\*_;)(-

Both left the headquarters, his hands tucked in his pockets; they crossed the cobbled floor from the entrance. Al seemed nervous, wondering, confused. Edward was a while writing his report, they usually took up to an hour to do, but this one took hours. Well, he was asleep on the couch, but what was Roy doing there with him? Wouldn't he be sat at his desk? What was his hand doing hanging over Ed like that? _Is there something I should know about this?_

His soul portrayed nervousness, he seemed unsure, of what he should ask, and if it would be right to ask it.

"So, uh… you got the report done then, huh?"

"Yeah, all done." Edward frowned.

"And you weren't in trouble for it being late?"

"He quipped about my priorities, practically called me a pussy, but told me to write the report there and not leave until it was done. He didn't so much as slap my hand for it."

_Maybe he was being lenient, because he has a soft spot?_

"It's funny though," Al breathed, "I didn't think he'd let you sleep on his couch. I would've thought he would've kicked you out into the break room instead."

"I don't know, maybe he just couldn't be arsed to get his lazy butt out of his chair." He frowned deeply, sensing somewhat the implication of his words. _What are you getting at, Al?_

"Do you think he has a soft spot for you?" Al rushed out in one breath.

"What?"

"No, no! I mean like, a soft spot for you out of all the other subordinates. No, erm, that came out wrong, I mean like you're his favourite. No, that's sounds just as-."

"Slow down, what's gotten you so worked up?"

"It just seemed odd."

"Odd?"

"Yeah, he was sat on the sofa with you while you slept. Anything could've happened to you, you know?"

"How do you mean?"

"He's a Colonel, but he's still a grown man, don't you think it seems a bit…off?"

"Like he's a paedophile?"

"Yes, I mean, no, I mean... You know what I mean." His soul began to sweat inside from the nervousness. "What do you think?"

"I don't know, he's ok I guess. He's sort of like a fatherly kind of guy, you know?"

"You think so?"

"Yeah, well, he would probably make a better father than Hohenheim."

"Better, than dad? I don't know, I mean, what about all the women he probably brings home at night. That's not very considerate for the children."

"Well, who's to say he's like that anyway?" his stomach began to twist up again, like it did as he left the office, when he caught Roy's eyes staring at his back.

_He wouldn't be like that at all, would he? Ok, maybe he is a lady killer, but where does that put me? I've never had a girlfriend, ever, mainly because I've never been interested or I've been too busy, but, why do I suddenly feel so anxious when I think about…him? Oh god…maybe…_

"Brother, you ok?"

"Huh? Yeah." _No, it's probably just a phase, but it's been like this for a while now. What is it about him that makes me…? _

"Oh, you just seem a little off, that's all."

"I'm fine, really, just a little tired. I hardly slept last night." _Ok, he's handsome; any woman can tell you that. He's been through a lot of military training, so obviously he's fit, and strong, and lean. Muscular? Oh, why am I even caring? He's a GUY for fuck's sake. I shouldn't even be thinking about him like that. But still, would he be thinking about me…? _

"Brother, are you blushing?" A blush was starting to spread upon his cheeks like paint dripping on a page.

"What? No!" he tried to deny it, thrusting away the ideas with his mind. But as they made their way out of the main courtyard, a figure stood in their way. His skin began to crawl as soon as he glanced up to face him. Cold sweat crawled down the back of his neck.

_No, not you! How the- Shit!_

The man held a look of seriousness; his hair was a deep brown, with a receding hairline. Dark sunglasses clung to the bridge of his nose. A white curled wire seemed to be attached to his right ear. He wore a deep green suit and tie, which was nothing like he'd seen any other man wear before. His clothing was foreign. He looked like a normal business man, and yet he was terrifying.

He stood in their path, not moving an inch.

"C-Can I help you?"

'Yes, it seems to me that you know something, Edward Elric, and that alone is too much.' He stepped forward towards them, 'you have acquired a want to search, for something that you shouldn't know exists.' He looked at him puzzled, he understood him, but, how could he know? Al whispered close to his ear,

"Brother, what is he talking about? How does he know you?"

Suddenly, he was right in front of them, so close that he could see those eyes staring malevolently through those glasses. 'You know of the Matrix, don't you?'

"M-Matrix?"

'Yes, this existence that you so call reality. It's nothing but a dream world. You've seen the fields, haven't you?' The thought of it all came rushing back, the notion of him opening that white door, and staring upon that field, those pink pods with the humans curled up inside and those machines, hovering before them and plucking those metal cables from their sockets. Those humans, they were being _harvested_.

"They're not natural."

'Ah, so you _do _know what I mean.'

"So what happens to me?"

'You'll be…taken care of.'

"I don't think so, pal!" he made to run, but the pistol was out of his jacket faster than Ed could blink. The man pulled the trigger, but the bullet ricocheted dully from Alphonse's armour.

"Brother! Run!" The man threw a fist towards Edward; he tried to dodge, but the speed that it hit his face was unbelievable. He backed away, tripping over his feet and falling on his back. The man's foot raised intent on stomping down on him. Ed whizzed to the side, bouncing to his feet from his hands. He sent a kick to the man's chest, but he grabbed his ankles and countered, sending him corralling to the side, rolling to the floor. "You won't kill him!" Al screamed in metallic rage, sending punches flying at the man. He dodged each move, his head dodging this way and that, stepping back as he did. One of Al's fists caught his cheek, but he simply took the brunt, his teeth clenched as the sunglasses splintered from his face. Although shorter than Al, those piercing blue eyes stared the armoured boy down.

'You don't know what you're dealing with. What I am is beyond you.' Suddenly, the gun came out again, the shot blasted off Al's helmet.

As it crashed to the pavement, his eyes widened at the sight. 'I see; I'm not the only one beyond human comprehension. Your body is nowhere to be seen, and yet you're alive and… kicking.' The last syllable lingered on his breath. A smirk curled up at the corner of his lips. Suddenly, more of them, all identical to the first man, came sprinting through the gates of the courtyard. They all ran past him, jumping into Al's armour, all six of them. Al's movements slowed, he shook, trying to resist them, but he couldn't bend his own arms to his will, his legs had stopped moving. One man manipulated his arm, making him reach out for the helmet and put it back on his neck. He cried as suddenly as his own arm acted out again, throwing a punch at Ed that he narrowly dodged. 'Now,' he grinned malevolently, 'let's see if your pathetic human emotions will allow you to fight your own brother!' 

There was nothing he could do to avoid it; those men were making his own brother send wave after wave of punches and kicks. Edward could barely stand, let alone dodge the onslaught. Suddenly, a fist struck him in the face, and blood streamed out above his right eye, drenching his face.

"I'm sorry, Brother!" he cried as a metal leg connected with Edward's solar plexus, knocking the wind out of him. "I can't stop them!"

"It's ok-." He rolled away quickly from a foot coming down towards his chest, now trying to sweep Al's foot from underneath him. He packed so much force in the attack, and it did nothing. He wasn't fighting something hollow anymore; he was fighting six men, all protected by one suit of armour. There was so much more power behind all of his brother's strikes. How could he defeat him?

-/\*_;)(-

'Woah, shit!' Tank yelled; he clenched the monitor between his fingers, watching as the agents piled into the suit of armour. Their chosen boy was being beaten, six on one, against agents. All bluepills who went up against an agent died, it was a well-known fact. They couldn't lose him now. 'MORPHEUS! The Agents! They've found him!'

Morpheus charged into the room, Neo and Trinity following close behind, looking over Tank's shoulder at the monitor.

'Damn! This was what I was afraid of! I wasn't certain before, but now I realise! If the Beta-Matrix is here, then of course the Agents will know of it! They must've tracked him through the phone call somehow!'

'There's no time in waiting for that translation!' Tank cried, 'We've got to get him out of there! Now! If we don't then we lose him!'

'I know that! Neo! Trinity! You're coming with me!' he, along with the other sat back in their fur-lined seats, strapping their feet in. Tank got out of his seat, pushing the data probes into the back of their heads.

-/\*_:)(-

Edward lay on the floor, bruised, beaten, he waited for an attack, but it wasn't coming anymore. The suit of armour shook, crouched on the floor, the helmet having fallen away onto the floor again. The men inside were fighting to make it stand, but Al was doing his best to resist them.

"I won't let you hurt my Brother anymore!" He cried, not letting the movements work.

'Isn't it funny?' The man nearest to Edward smiled, too sadistically for an expression used for happy emotions. 'That such strength dwells within this suit of armour, but inside the suit of armour is…not. Honestly, to be beaten down by nothing.'

"Th-That's not true! Al is not nothing!" he screamed, bending over to the floor to spit blood out of his mouth.

'Hm, then perhaps you can answer me this. What is that mark, in the helm of the armour? What does it do?' He gripped Edward's head and pulled, forcing Ed to look at Alphonse's blood seal.

"It's the anchoring point," he gasped in pain, "It's what keeps the soul tied to the armour."

'Then you won't mind if we break it, will you?' One of the men poked a finger into its centre, scratching the symbol with a perfectly manicured fingernail. Alphonse gasped, suddenly feeling the pain of being pulled from his metal body.

"NO! Stop it! Don't! PLEASE!" Edward pleaded, stretching his hands towards Al, struggling to be released from the man's powerful grip. "AL!" Tears welled up in his eyes, and he fell to his knees. The man scratching Al's blood seal pulled back his arm and struck with his fist, punching through the metal surrounding the mark. The blood seal shattered into fragments, and the armour fell limp. With expert co-ordination, the men were able to control the armour, taking up the helmet, the fastened it back on.

Tears shrieked through his body, as he shook with dismay, every inch of him felt like it was being ripped apart. His cries rang through the courtyard. Ed clenched his eyes shut, vainly trying to stop the tears. Shaking he tried to get up, his knees buckling and he suddenly bent over double, vomit plastered the concrete as he retched.

'Hurts, doesn't it? You've lost it all, and now there's nothing left for you to do, except to die.' The man's left arm wrapped around Ed's neck, crushing him to his side. Choking, Ed coughed and gasped for air, his hands tugging at the man's thick arm. The man placed his right hand at the right side top of Ed's head, with intent of snapping Ed's neck.

_Any moment now, and he's going to-!_

But he didn't. Dull footsteps were heard from behind. Dull, like boots.

'Smith!' The voice echoed through the courtyard. Ed wanted to look behind, to see who it was that knew his near-killer's identity, but his neck was secure between the arm and the body of "Smith". If he twisted his neck too much, Ed would finish the job himself.

'Ah! Mr Anderson! I didn't expect to see you here!' A smile curled up his lips, and he loosened his grip slightly, turning to face Mr Anderson. Edward tried, but couldn't understand the two men's words; it was an alien language to him.

'Let the boy go! It's me you want!' Smith loosened his grip, and Edward fell to the floor, hitting the concrete with a grunt. Smith strode towards Mr Anderson.

'It's not like you to care about a boy like him, Mr Anderson.'

'That may be true, but neither do I care for you!' he screamed, pulling out his own gun. Neo began running towards Smith, yelling as he pulled the trigger. Bullets flew towards Smith, but not one of them hit. Smith jumped, palming his gun and firing off shots of his own. But to his disdain Neo dodged every one, and he clenched his teeth in rage.

The other Smith's jumped out of the suit of armour, all six of them ganging up on Mr Anderson. Slowly, Edward began to get up, his fists clenched in fury. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve, hoping to get rid of the rest of that vile acidic taste left from his stomach contents, which lay in a putrid puddle on the floor. He looked towards the man, now known to him as "Mr Anderson". He had short black hair, sunglasses rested up on the bridge of his nose, his skin was pale. He wore a black buttoned up jacket with a high Persian collar. It stretched down to his ankles, revealing leather pants and boots. He clenched his teeth, his expression maddened.

_He wears sunglasses like them! He's partnered with them! It's because of him that Al's dead! That bastard KILLED AL!_

Raising his fist, Ed charged towards Mr Anderson, screaming as he did so.

-/\*_;)(-

Neo's eyes widened behind his sunglasses. The boy he had saved was now charging towards him with a risen right fist. Neo narrowly kicked Smith's attack away, hearing the boy scream in his own jumbled language.

"EDEVEWEDUG*!" a fist flew at his face, but he knocked it away with a forearm block.

'Stop it! I'm on your side'

"Kih'v gihadeg eihafedexivih ri brex (He's dead because of you)!" Now_ both_ Smith and the boy were attacking him. He sent a knee into Edward's stomach, sending him reeling back, and threw a punch to Smith's face, barely affecting the rogue program.

'Morpheus! Anytime now!'

Suddenly, a car screeched through the gates into the courtyard and stopped behind Edward as he continued to stagger around from Neo's strike. The car door flew open, and an arm yanked him in. The door closed, and the car skidded its way out of the courtyard.

-/\*_;)(-

"Oihiw pih jr (Let me go)!" the boy roared, trying to struggle against their grasps. Morpheus had him trapped in a full nelson on the back seat. Trinity was the one who had pulled him in, trying to grip his legs together to stop him kicking. He wouldn't stop thrashing and writhing, his right fist connecting with Morpheus jaw, causing the bald man to spit blood over the seat.

'Stay still!' Morpheus ordered, 'Listen to me!' But the boy didn't, and wouldn't.

"Zekadiu duh brex grle'j (What are you doing)? L gr'ew xe'gihuviwade'g (I don't understand!)" Suddenly, he threw his head to the side, vomiting onto the car floor, some of it hitting Trinity's shoes. She sighed with annoyance. He groaned sickly, unable to wipe the vomit away from around his mouth. Tears glistened in his eyes as the acid burned his throat. "Sohadivih. Wadenih pih edafen. (Please. Take me back)." He pleaded weakly.

Taking a cell phone out of his pocket, he called Tank from it,

'Ok, we need to get a hotel room ready for us to jack him out.'

'Roger that.'

'And his language? Is it learnable now?'

'Yeah, seems to be.'

'Good, I need to learn it.'

'Ok.'

Morpheus closed his eyes momentarily. They shimmered slightly as he opened them, giving the impression that he now knew more things than he did before. He looked down at Edward, slowly taking his arms out of the hold, giving the signal for Trinity to loosen her grip. "Zekr zediv wekadu le' wekh vexliw ri duprexu (Who was that in the suit of armour)?" Trinity looked up at Switch, the driver, with a puzzled face.

"Alphonse! Peb oliwwoh euriwekhu (My little brother)! Wekruh pihe' nloohe klep (Those men killed him)!" Suddenly, he began to cough; the sound was hard, grating in his chest. He covered his mouth quickly. Morpheus patted his back gently, but stopped when Edward did. Taking his hand away, he found blood soaking into his gloves. His eyes widened both in shock and pain, tears fell freely. "L gre'w zede'w wr glih (I don't want to die)." He whispered hoarsely.

"Kade'j re' (Hang on)." He took up his cell phone once again. 'Tank! I'm going to need the location of that room, now! He's weakening fast and coughing blood!'

'I've got it! Take your next left and then the third right after that! There's an old warehouse on the right side and it's just in there!'

'Ok, thanks.' He hung up as Ed coughed more blood into his hands, crying harder.

'We're going to have to hurry Morpheus, if we don't get their sooner, then he's not going to make it. Can't we take any shortcuts?' Morpheus' fists tightened with the frustration.

'No! Unless you know the streets back to front then I'd like to hear it!' She tightened her lips shut.

Suddenly, pain ripped through Ed's chest, clawing at his heart. He grasped at his chest, screaming, his eyes clenched in pain. His forehead was drenched in sweat, his body weakening as the seconds ticked by.

"L gre'w zede'w wr glih (I don't want to die)!" he screamed hoarsely.

'Is he having a heart attack?' Trinity asked, holding his legs down as he kicked out in desperation.

'Shit! We're running out of time!' Morpheus jammed his hand in his pocket, pulling out a red pill.

'You can't just force that thing on him!' Trinity screamed.

'If I don't, then we'll never know if he's the program we're searching for! If he dies, then _we _die!' he shoved the pill at Edward, who stared up at it with almost glazed eyes. His head was starting to loll on his shoulder, his neck unable to support his heads weight anymore. "Edward, orrn diu pih (look at me)! L fade' vadyih brexu olih (I can save your life)!" his eyes lit up weakly.

"Krez (How)?" he whimpered.

"Wekliv uheg sloo (This red pill). Liw zloo fexuh brex (It will cure you)." Edward looked up at the glowing pill hopefully as he coughed and hacked, spitting away the blood that gathered in his mouth.

"B-Bihiv (Y-Yes). Jlyih liw wr pih (Give it to me)." Morpheus, with a smile twisting at his lips, dropped into Ed's open mouth and rubbed the boy's throat, ensuring the pill went down his oesophagus.

"Ren (ok). Brex'uh jrle'j wr eih douljekiw (You're going to be alright)." A small smile came up on Edward's lips, feeling a relief course through him as the pain subsided. The painful grip on his heart lessened, his eyelids began to droop, and his breath began to lose its ragged edge.

'Come on! Don't die now!' Morpheus tightened his fists together, thrusting them on Ed's chest. 'Are we here?' He screamed in frustration. Switch stopped the car.

'Yes, we are.' Ed was bundled into Trinity's arms and they ran for the warehouse. Edward's mind blanked as he drifted out of consciousness.

-/\*_;)(-

The data probes were pulled out of Morpheus, Trinity and Switch's heads, and they sat up, a somewhat look of relief expressing on their faces.

'Did Neo get out?' Morpheus asked, strolling over to Tank.

'Yeah, he found a phone box outside the courtyard and I was able to get him out of there no problem.'

'Good.'

'And the boy, Edward, how is he?'

'We've got him out, now we just have to wait for him to mature in the pod. Then, we can start teaching him his purpose.' He sighed finally, 'But when he's awake, we cannot tell him that his brother's dead. We just can't have a reaction like that.'

'So what do we tell him?' Trinity asked.

'I don't know. We'll figure that out if he asks.' Trinity retreated silently to a room where Neo lay on his bed silently, as he expected him to.

'Are you alright?' She asked, sitting on the edge of it next to him.

'Yeah,' he sighed, 'Smith was no problem.' He replied again smugly. 'I saw that kid getting bundled into the car. Did he make it out?'

'Yeah, apart from the vomiting, the coughing and the heart attack, everything went without a hitch.' She replied with a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

'Geez, problem kid much.'

'Please, be nice to him, will you? It's going to be hard for him to adjust to a new situation and language. Just try and make it easier for him.'

'Fine, fine.' He frowned, dismissing her concern.

'But remember, we can't tell him his brother died.'

'His brother? I didn't even see him there, who was that again?'

'The suit of armour was his brother.' She scowled, but sighed, 'Although I guess I can't expect you to know that. I only picked that up from Morpheus.' She smiled finally, kissing Neo's forehead. 'Anyway, don't be jealous.'

'Jealous? Why would _I _be _jealous_?'

'Because you think he's going to steal your thunder. I know you too well, remember?'

She lay down by his side, pushing him up against the wall, he put his arm around her shoulders, and both fell asleep.

Author's note: Just realised, apologies for the swearing!

*Bastard, if anyone's wondering.


	4. Welcome To The Family

_Err… What happened? Th-This… I can't see? W-Wait… no…my eyes are closed. H-How did I g-get here? Th-This stuff. What am I swimming in? It's… weird. W-Where am I? _

Slowly, his eyes opened and his world came back into focus. Submerged in a viscous liquid; metal cables, where were they coming from? How were they held in place? He worked his limbs, no right leg; gone from the knee. His right arm was immobile. _No right arm. Did someone disconnect my auto-mail? _

He kicked up from the bottom, bringing him floating up to the top; he tried to gasp, but something was blocking his wind pipe. A metal pipe was crushing his tongue to the bottom of his mouth. He seized a hold of the cable, and with some struggle pulled it free, gasping and coughing. He held onto the side of the tub, trying to catch his breath.

His eyes weakly peered about him. A dark field, illuminating pink pods connected in rows to large towers that lit up with flashes of electricity. Machines floated about, picking on other humans that were once curled up in their pods. His eyes sprung wide. He looked down himself; his body was covered in cables that protruded into his flesh. _I'm in one of the pods! B-But how? _

Suddenly, a machine loomed upon him. A grabber snatched at his throat lifting him up, his breathing faltered, he clung to it weakly. Then, the cables came loose, bursting from his body and pain coursed through him. As the machine released him, he flopped back into the pod.

A hatch opened at the back, and the thick liquid drained away, and he found himself being dragged along in its current. He couldn't grab for the edge, and he slid down a pipe. He wanted to scream, his throat was frail, he could hardly croak. Before he could relax, the pipe's path ended, and he fell down into a sewer lake. He splashed into the water. He tried to gasp for the surface, the current was dragging him under; he couldn't swim.

Suddenly, something tugged around him, pulling him up above the surface. Above him, a bright light branched; he narrowed his eyes to its glare. Next thing he knew, he was flopped on a cold floor; it was the first time he realised he was naked.

He coughed dually as voices blared and towels surrounded him. His eyes ached, more than he had known before; this was worse than trying to drag them open when you knew you could fall asleep any second. Before him, he found great legs walking towards him, and a dark-skinned... man? Walk towards him. The man sunk to his knees, looking down at him with what he could recognise as a smile. His lips moved, but he couldn't seem to hear it. Blackness seemed to seize his from all sides, and his consciousness was stolen away.

-/\*_;)(-

He strolled in through the beaded curtains into that same green kitchen. The Oracle sat before him at her kitchen table, a batch of cookies were sat on a plate on the table, looking hot and delicious. His mouth watered, but he put the temptation to the back of his mind. _That's not what I'm here for. _He told himself.

'Ah, Morpheus, why this is unexpected.' She smiled up at him as he took a seat up to the table.

'We may have retrieved him, the boy that we spoke of.'

'You mean Edward Elric.' She smiled, and he almost gaped at her. 'Don't give me that look, Morpheus, I have already seen what must be, you should know that more than anyone.'

'Yes, of course.'

'I know what you would already have told me. He is Neo's guide, the boy who must walk the path with the One.'

'Then you know what he's capable of, and what his future entails.'

'Of course, but what his future holds is for his ears alone.' She smiled graciously at him, 'bring him here when he's strong enough. He should feel right at home here.'

'I will.' He stood up from his chair, and turned to leave, before jerking in remembrance and turning back. 'I almost forgot, when I bring him here, you mustn't tell him that his brother's dead. When he saw him die when we were retrieving him, it had an almost fatal affect. We can't risk that happening again.'

'I see, so the situation is dire.' She sighed gently, 'I won't say a word, but you know, he will find out eventually; why not tell him when he asks?'

'As he stands, he's weak. A bad reaction could mean a deadly one, and right now what we need are results.'

'Of course, as expected from a leader.' She smiled faintly, but drew it away when she took a bite out of a cookie.

'Then I'll see you in a month or so.' He retreated from her kitchen, pushing through the beaded curtain.

-/\*_;)(-

Morpheus entered the room; the boy was unconscious, lying on the table. His body was completely covered in needles. He looked so much different from before; his hairless body looked so frail and weak now, and his arm and leg were non-existent. Not even scars remained. Morpheus' face creased with puzzlement, and with a gentle nudge, pulled Tank away to the corridor.

'What the hell happened to him?' He wanted to yell, but kept it to a forced whisper.

'His arm and leg were like that when he came out of the pod; it can't be helped.' He shrugged his shoulders.

'The effects of amputations are reversed once they cross through out of the Matrix! That injury shouldn't be sustained on this end!'

'Then it may have something to do with the connection between here and the Beta-Matrix. Maybe it was still weak.'

Morpheus clenched his teeth with anger, trying his best to suppress it. 'We'll ask him when he's well enough. You just keep studying the Beta-Matrix when he's stable; we're going to have to supply him with prosthetics.'

'Right.' Tank left for Edward's side, monitoring him once again.

_What happened to you, Edward?_

-/\*_;)(-

Mouse crept up to Tank, peering at the boy curiously.

'So, is that him then? From the Beta-Matrix?'

'Yeah, a weird one, isn't he?' Tank smirked as he clicked at a keyboard and monitor, doing the necessary checks. 'Anyway, all the health checks seem to be fine, and his muscles are developing nicely.'

'Um, Tank? Not to shower on your intelligence, but I think you missed something here.'

'Oh, don't worry, I know about the arm and leg. They were gone before he left his Matrix; he was apparently using prosthetics.'

'Ah...but shouldn't that effect have been reversed?'

'That's the problem we're facing right now, but we're going to get to the bottom of this.'

Mouse looked on at Ed, and a smile lit up his face as the boy's face screwed up back into consciousness.

'Oh, hey, you're awake!' Mouse grinned, but the boy glared up at him with confusion; and slowly tried to make an effort to sit up.

'Whoa, stay still! You can't get up yet!' Tank said in alarm, but the boy only stared, and tried to get up. He looked down in alarm at the needles that covered his body and a scream croaked up hoarsely from his throat. 'Mouse! Hold him down!'

"Zekhuh dep L (Where am I)? Krez gleg L- (How did I)?" he screamed hoarsely, staring at them, his eyes wide with fear.

'Is that another language?' Mouse glared.

'Hold him down Mouse!' Tank shrieked. 'Morpheus! Get your butt down here! The kid's up!'

'He shouldn't be strong enough yet, right?'

'Yeah, even Neo was weak at this point; could barely move. But maybe it's to do with the Matrix he's from. Maybe these people have extra stores of energy somewhere inside them.'

The boy kept screaming, scared; tears slid down his cheeks as he pushed up against Mouse's grasp on his shoulders.

'I can't hold him down!'

'MORPHEUS!' Tank called, 'Damn, if he keeps up like this, he's not going to make it! NEO!' He called again.

Suddenly, Neo came rushing in.

'What's going on?'

'Ed's acting out! He could kill himself like this! Now, hold him down!'

Neo grabbed a hold of his shoulders and pushed him down against the table. He yelped in pain, but still tried to struggle.

"Ohiw pih jr (Let me go)!"

Morpheus rushed into the room, grabbing a hold of Edward's shoulders.

'Edward, fadop grezeq (calm down). Brex'uh leq wekih Uhado Zruog (You're in the Real World).' Edward's struggling ceased, and he stared at him, almost blankly.

"We-Wekih Uhado Zruog (Th-The Real World)?"

'Bhu (yes).' A smile brightened on his face. 'L zloo wihoo brex doo ri wekih ghiwadlo oduhu (I will tell you all of the details later), exiw iru qurez brex pexiviw uhiviw (but for now you must rest).' Slowly, Neo retracted his hands, and Edward didn't struggle. 'Tank, is he stable?'

'Yeah, heart rate is returning to normal; he should be fine.'

'Good, don't let him out of your sight.' And then, turning to Mouse, 'Keep on researching the Beta-Matrix; see if you can bring up their world's prosthetics as a viable option on the Construct program. If we can get them for Ed, then at least he'll be able to move around. He'll be of more help to us then.'

'Y-yes, sir.' He answered, and shifted away quietly.

-/\*_;)(-

He'd been here for a while; no one had told him anything, mainly because he couldn't understand their senseless jabbering, but his long hair was gone, he was in a place that was more akin to the HQ's janitor's closet than anywhere remotely habitable and he was completely in the dark about everything. No one had managed to salvage anything remotely alike to prosthetics, and so he was left stranded in his room, with bowls of weird white, lumpy gloop served to him by a man who called himself Morpheus, which looked more like someone had sweated it out through their tight fists, left it to curdle and flavoured it to their tastes for the poor boy who had to eat it.

He groaned as Morpheus came back with another serving of the obnoxious food and placed it on the bedside,

_'Can you eat this yourself?'_

_ "Huh? Oh, yeah... I'm used to eating one-handed." _He took the dish and spoon from the bedside table and rested it on the covers in front of him, and scooped the food distastefully into his mouth, swallowing it with disdain. _"Isn't there anything better to eat than this?"_

_ 'No, this is the only food ration we can carry. You'll have to make do, besides, you need to get stronger.' _Morpheus sat himself in a chair beside him as Edward fed himself more; the boy's eyes squinted upon swallowing, his eyes going watery.

_"It's funny; no one's been able to tell me where I am at all."_

_ 'There's a time when I'll be able to tell you everything, but for now, all you need to know is that you're in the real world; a place where you're better off being.'_

Silence breached them as a thought purveyed Edward's mind,

"How is this place better?"

_"What do you mean when you say the "Real World"?"_

_ 'You'll learn soon enough.' _Morpheus smiled, and watched as Edward tried to straighten himself up on the bed. The covers slipped from underneath the bowl and tipped the food on the covers. He groaned irritably, picking up the bowl. _'Here, I'll get you some more.' _Morpheus took the spoon and bowl from him, disappearing from the room for an interval.

"How am I ever going to get used to living here?" Edward sighed inwardly, poking the lumpy stuff, frowning. Before he knew it, Morpheus was back again with more ration and an old cloth hanging off his arm. He gave the cloth to Edward, who wiped up the mess while Morpheus sat down with the bowl balanced in his palm and the spoon in the other hand.

_'Let me feed you.' _He scooped the spoon in, and slowly relinquished the food to Edward's open mouth. _'I've been meaning to ask you, when a person is first brought out of the Matrix, any injuries or amputations that have been sustained in their previous life will be fully healed once they are in the pod, but, you're an exception to that rule. I need you to tell me how you lost your arm and leg; it could help us in the future should we bring more Bluepills from your Matrix to the Real World.' _Edward's mouth pressed shut into a thin line, his face had gone as pale as a white sheet.

_"I-It's hard to explain. I doubt you'd believe me."_

_ 'Edward, you're talking to a man who has seen many sites throughout his lifetime, some that would even make your story pale in comparison. Now, tell me; I can take anything.' _

_ "W-Well," _he gulped, _"me and my little brother, we tried to bring our mom back to life, using Alchemy. We failed, and I lost my leg and Al lost his whole body. To tie his soul to the suit of armour, I had to give my arm as the price to do it."_

_ 'Give it? What to?' _

_ "The Gate of Truth; it is the Gate that exists inside every Alchemist, of which works on the rule of Equivalent Exchange, as does every other Alchemical Reaction. Al and I have been working since then to regain the bodies that we lost, but so far, everything has been a dead loss." _

_ 'But is that even possible? After all, you could not call back the dead, so how could you call back your limbs, or a whole body.' _

_ "Don't say that! We've been working for years trying to succeed; don't start to question something that you can't even understand." _He hissed.

_'I see, I guess a limb is not the same as a life, is it?'_

_ "Totally different." _Edward frowned, opening his mouth finally for another mouthful from the spoon, and a silence breeched them both. 

_"You know", _Edward finally began in between mouthfuls,_ "I realise now why your voice seemed so familiar to me. You're the man who called me on the phone in Mustang's office, and the guy who spoke to me in my dream, right?"_

_ 'Well, I don't know about the dream, but yes, I did call you that day on the phone.' _He spooned in another mouthful, waiting for Ed to swallow before he scooped in more.

_"Ah, so then you're the one, who told me about what exists behind the doors. You told me about the fields, and the pods, but I never thought I would find myself in one." _He smirked, taking another mouthful, but then his face dropped, and sadness seemed to overcome it. _"There's still one thing that's bothering me, my little brother, you know who I'm talking about. I'm sure I told you about him before; he's the one in the suit of armour, called Alphonse. Do... Do you know where he is?"_

Morpheus, sighing, replaced the spoon in the dish and placed it on the bedside table.

_'He's gone.' _Edward's eyebrows knitted in confusion, almost taken aback by the statement.

_"Huh?"_

_ 'He's gone missing in the Matrix; we don't know where he is for certain, and it would take a lot of time to search both Matrices; time we don't have. But, if you agree to serve your purpose with us, then you're free to look for him while we travel.' _

_ "Ok." _Edward tried to smile, agreeing to the terms. _"But I get to start as soon as we get in."_

_ 'Not so fast Edward, there are things that you need to understand first before you can begin to travel freely around the Matrix. Don't worry; they will be time to search.' _Edward nodded slightly, and didn't watch as Morpheus picked up the bowl and spoon.

_'I'll leave you to sleep; you should be strong enough soon, and then you'll learn the truth.' _He left the room, shutting the door behind him. He lay down full on the bed, tears slid down his cheeks. He tried to choke back the lump in his throat, but it squeaked from the tears.

_"Al," _he whispered,_ "I need you here; where are you?"_ more cries squeaked from his throat, and he tried to muffle them with his covers. _"The Colonel will want to know where I am. I'll never find out if he..._" His cries came out; the pillow couldn't muffle them anymore.

-/\*_;)(-

Neo listened from the other side of the door, hearing the boy give muffled whimpers to the four walls. He didn't know what he should do. Should he leave him? Should he comfort him? His stomach twisted up inside him; he knew the loneliness at first, but maybe this boy has lost more from the beginning than he? He was already living in his own place having moved out from his parents when he became a Redpill, but at that boy's age, he would still miss them a lot.

'What's wrong?' Trinity's voice peered up from behind him.

'That new kid, Edward, he's crying. It's starting to get to me.' He screwed his face up darkly, taking his eyes away from the crack in the open door.

'I could go comfort-.'

'No, he won't understand you anyway.' He frowned. 'He's a foreigner after all.'

'Don't be so harsh. He has a purpose here just like you do; otherwise Morpheus wouldn't have saved him from the agents.'

'You mean _I _saved him from the agents.' Neo snapped.

'You know what I mean. Look, don't let him get to you, ok? Just focus for now; we can't have any screw ups when it comes to fighting the machines.'

'Yeah, you're right.' Neo sighed. He turned to face here fully, pulling her into a hug with a smiling face. He ducked his head into her lips, kissing them smoothly.

-/\*_;)(-

His eyes slid open slowly, bringing his world back into focus; the blurry line of a figure came into a clear outline of Morpheus. Using his left hand for balance, he slowly rose up off his side, looking up at the other man.

'_Ah, so you're awake,'_ Morpheus smiled, _'anyway, it's time for your health check. Come on, I'll take you there.'_ He sat on the bed beside Ed, and with an arm, reached it round the back of Edward's waist. With another arm, he tugged the left arm over his shoulder. He raised them both up, and, with his left arm, hooked it under Edward's legs, carrying him bridal style from the room. The boy blushed somewhat, averting his eyes away from Morpheus'.

"_Er... Thanks for the lift; you didn't have to do this."_ He smiled.

'_I'm glad to help, besides, you're important to our success.'_

"_No I'm not," _he scowled, _"don't treat me like I'm some special person, because I don't want any special favours. Just treat me like everyone else around here and we'll get along fine."_

'_Ok, but I'm only doing this because it would be difficult to get you there if you hopped all the way, besides, your legs may not be strong enough yet.'_

"_That's because you don't let me roam around from my room."_

'_We don't have a wheelchair to spare.'_

"_I don't need one of those. A crutch will do nicely." _The scowl finally settled from his face, lighting up. _"But, still, thanks for having me here, and for your hospitality."_

'_It's no problem at all, but before you can really thank me, let's just get you checked up.' _

Arriving in the main room, the others stood around as Edward was lowered into a chair and having plasters stuck about him; all connected to wires. Tank tapped on the keyboard, doing all the regular checks.

'Morpheus, give him one of those small weights to lift.' Tanks instructed. Morpheus picked one from a small nearby box and gave it to Ed.

'Nhes oliwle'j wekadiu zhlajekiw (Keep lifting that weight). Zih zede'iw wr fekhafen li brexu pexivafohiv kadyh ghyhoresiheg suresihuob (We want to check if your muscles have developed properly).' Edward nodded in comprehension, and began to flex his arm as he lifted it.

'His arm muscles are fine, and his heart rate looks normal.' Tank smiled. Morpheus gave Edward the thumbs up, and took the weight away from him. 'Now for his leg, just get him to hop a little.'

'Jhiw xes, Ed (Get up,). Zih quihheg brex wr kres (We need you to hop).' Sliding off the chair, he held onto Morpheus for balance and began hopping.

'That's great, he can stop now.' Tank gave Ed a thumb up, and Edward stopped, resting down on the seat. 'Ok, I think we're good to go.' Morpheus unstuck the plasters, and manoeuvred him to one of the fur-lined seats, and laying him in.

"Zekediw'iv kadessihe'le'j qurez (What's happening now)?"

'Zih'uh jrle'j wr soxaj brex el'wr wekih Padiula (We're going to plug you into the Matrix).' He grinned excitedly as he buckled Edward's foot to the bottom and positioned his hand on the edge of the chair arm.

"Krez (How)?"

'Le' fadivih brex glege'iw quriwulafih, brex kadyh d kroh le' wekih edefen ri brexu khadeg (In case you didn't notice, you have a hole in the back of your head). Zih'uh jrle'j wr le'ivihuw wekih gadiwad sureih le' wekihvih (We're going to insert the data probe in there).' Taking hold of the data probe cable, the metal brushed against the rim of the hole. Edward's eyes widened to it.

"L fadafe' ihhio liw (I can feel it)." He winced, and his face screwed up from the new electrical sensation as the whole plug was inserted, his hand tightened around the chair arm, before finally relaxing again.

Suddenly, he opened his eyes; the whole space around him was a blank white void, in which he lay. Slowly, he sat up, putting his left arm in for support. There were bangs dangling in front of his eyes, as he had remembered them, and a braid brushing against the back of his neck. The same familiar black jacket and black under vest were as they should be along with the black leather pants and single boot, and another waiting by him.

His eyes widened in amazement, in awe of the place. He had been here, or something similar, in his dream, but this felt like a reality he hadn't known before. Where was he?

'_You don't know yet?' _Morpheus had fizzed into view before him, he was wearing black leather trousers, a long leather jacket and sunglasses that clung to the bridge of his nose; so much different from the thread-worn clothes that everyone, including himself was wearing before. A smile quirked up at the edge of his mouth, and he held his arms out in complete magisterial delight. _'This is... the Matrix!'_

The voice thrummed through the empty space, and he sat there, totally bewildered and with a gaping mouth. It was like he was a player in a children's fantasy game. The possibilities, although bleak at first glance, seemed positively endless.

*The two are alone, so I don't need to use the Amestrian alphabet for this, which is why all the speech here is in italics. It would be too tedious. It's only usable in front of English speaking people, in order to invoke the effect of a foreign language and everyone not knowing what the hell they're saying. Here, non-italic writing in speech bubbles is for thought. '' for Morpheus and "" for Ed. 

Author's note: Sorry for a late update. It's been summer, new school, new lessons, new friends, new illness and boring hospital and recovery routine. But I'm feeling much better now you'll be glad to hear, so I'm going to give you this chapter! My beta-reader seems to be quitting out on me, so we'll do well enough without him. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it. Same as always, please R & R, and I hope you weren't somewhat confused by the dialogue workings and whatever.

Enjoy!

This is called Welcome to the Family by Avenged Sevenfold for once. It's a good song and I think it kind of suits the contents of the chapters. Listen while you read!

Ophelia Davis 


	5. Another Way To Die

Author's note: Now for Chapter 5 now including a special omake at the end. I think I'll write those in mainly every 5 chapters, but conversely I could just add them in whenever I'm inspired to do an omake anyway. This chapter, I was. Anyway, a before warning here for language on Ed's part, this counts especially in the omake. I'll tell you now in case you dislike course language.

Thanks.

This chapter is dedicated to Nyghthawk, whose review kept me in high spirits after my discharge from hospital. I could've dedicated the 4th chapter to you, but this one is more exciting, as well as it being my favourite chapter so far and it has an omake at the end, so it seemed like an extra special treat! Thanks again to you.

This song is called Another Way to Die by Disturbed. Listening to the lyrics, I knew that this was a good song to represent this chapter. Listen to this song while reading it. It's on the Asylum album!

Ophelia Davis

/\*_;)(-

_'Well, in all honesty, this is just the Construct; our loading program. It isn't quite the Matrix; it's more of a place where we can load anything we want, or anything we need.' _

Edward looked around him in disbelief.

"_Where are we, exactly?"_

'_Essentially, it is a computer program.'_

"_A what program?" _He returned, astonished.

'_A computer program; haven't you heard of one?'_

"_I don't think I've even heard of a computer. I guess my world's timeline is a little different to yours."_

_Morpheus nodded. 'Quite.'_

"_So, you're saying, we're inside one of these computer programs?" _

'_Is it really so hard to believe? You're hair is back, your clothes are different, and the plugs in your arm and head are gone. It is called your residual self image; a mental projection of your digital self.' _

"_Wait, hold on a sec," _His head whizzed around, seeking something,_ "Are we at the Gate?"_

'_No, we're inside the Matrix; it's a little different.' _

"_The Matrix is supposedly a virtual world; how is that different?"_

'_Look, Ed, that's not the point. The point is...' _with slow steps, Morpheus strolled towards Edward, taking a hold of his arm and pulling him away. _'You're going to have to move back.'_ Suddenly, rows upon rows of shelves came roaring towards them, Edward's breath caught in his throat from surprise. He held him close to Morpheus's arms as they thundered past, clutching him with his eyes screwed shut. Finally, the shelves ceased, but he didn't move, shaking.

'_Edward, you can let go now.' _He frowned, looking down into Edward's face, hidden in his chest. He blinked, looked up at Morpheus, who gave him a reassuring smile as he removed Edward's hand from his clothing. He held up on his one foot, allowing him to stand._ 'Don't act so surprised, Edward; this is just the beginning.' _Edward looked around him in awe, staring left to right in the aisle he stood in. It appeared to be an endless lane of items. His eyes widened at the machinery positioned on the shelves in their different styles and sizes. 

_"Wait, is this, automail?" _he asked, gaping in awe of the hundreds of selections that were presented to him on the shelves.

_'You'd better thank Mouse and Tank for the over time; they were able to pull hundreds of different kinds of automail from the information bank of the Beta-Matrix and upload them here. ' _

He stared up at him, _"But - why?" _

_'We don't want you hobbling your way through the Construct; it would take away the fun of it. Now, choose something; I'm sure you're quite used to walking with automail.'_

_ "Would you be able to connect it once I choose something?"_

_ 'It's a good thing Tank gave me the download on automail knowledge, because I had a feeling you would say something like that.'_ He smirked. _'Anyway, we were able to categorize each one through age, gender and trade name.' _

Edward glanced through the selection, but didn't move to pick one.

_"I don't mean to be picky but, do you have anything under Rockbell?"_

_ 'Why? Is it a familiar trade name?' _

_ "That's the name of my mechanic's automail. I'm used to her models, so, if you could..."_

_ 'Hang on,'_ he sighed heavily and called out to Tank, _'Tank, have we got anything on the Rockbell selection?'_

Suddenly, the shelves whizzed to the right, and they found themselves further down the aisle.

_'Is this more to your taste?' _Before them were the selections that Edward held familiar, smiling at them.

_"Yeah, much better." _He grinned, _"Right, so I'll take the right arm there, and the left leg down here."_ Morpheus took a hold of the automail limbs and placed down at Ed's side, letting Ed strip away to his boxers. Finding the metal port already attached to his leg, he pushed the leg into the slot. _"A-Are you ready to connect it?" _Edward watched as Morpheus took a wrench from a shelf and crouched down beside him, arresting the screw in between the two thick prongs.

_'Ok, and-.'_ Edward screamed as the nerves connected, trying to withstand the pain that jolted down through his leg. _'Are you ok?'_

_"Y-Yeah, I just realised how much smoother Winry is at connecting automail than you are,"_ he snarled, but still undid his jacket once he pulled his pants back on. The automail arm was placed in the slot, and he screamed when Morpheus jerked the wrench and the same sick jolt flashed down his arm.

He stood up from the ordeal, trying the limbs out, ensuring their movement. Once satisfied, he smiled, placing the boot on his foot. He placed the odd white glove from his left arm in his pocket, leaving it at that.

_"Will we have to do this every time we enter the Matrix?"_

_ 'No, I can set this automail as your residual self image when we come round here again.'_

_ "Great, thanks." _

_'Oh, before we leave for the main Construct, I think it's about time you learnt how to speak English.'_

_"How long is that going to take, because I doubt we're allowed to spend weeks in here?"_

_'No, it only takes a minute at the most. Now, repeat after me,_ "Tank, I need the English language download".'

_"Er..._Tank? I need Engrish Lang- er... uage download...? _Please?"_

_ 'That'll do. _Tank, load it up.' Morpheus watched with a smile as Edward's eyes screwed shut and he shook as all the new information began to pour into his mind, overloading it, it felt like he was sailing through the Gate of Truth the third time. His eyes shot open, and he gasped for breath, his eyes wide in amazement.

"Whoa, that was-...wow!"

'You like the new Intel?'

"Yeah! This is...amazing! Why waste weeks of reading when you can learn all you would need to know in a couple of seconds thanks to the Construct?"

'Indeed.' Morpheus smiled proudly, 'The Matrix has been able to grant us many advantages in the past, without which we would have died by now. Anyway, enough loitering; I'll take you through the Construct.'

The shelves suddenly whizzed out of view and they found themselves on top of a building, the wind battering them about. Morpheus stood firm before him.

'Edward, in the Matrix, you will need to learn to free your mind.'

"Free my mind?" He tried to stand as firm as Morpheus, trying to gain balance in a place where there was hardly any.

'Yes, but before you can, you have to let it all go... your fear, your doubt and disbelief.'

"You've told me this before..." Edward realised.

'Now come on, Edward; when did I tell you a thing like that?'

"How do I free my mind?"

'You must remember, that in the Matrix, it is your mind that roams here, while your body is left in the ship

"Like some sort of different reality?"

'That's right, but, not exactly. The Reality is more akin to virtual, but even so- the injuries you sustain are real. So, if you die in the Matrix, you die in the Real World.'

"The body cannot exist without a mind-," He nodded.

'I knew you were smart.' He faced the edge of the building top, facing the other one just a road across. 'Once you have freed your mind from the understanding and physics that you know; it will be able to do things that Bluepills can only _dream _of. For example, jump from this building to the other one across the way.'

"What, are you kidding me? That's impossible!"

'I assure you, it's not.'

"Well, if you really think so, then _you _do it!"

'Very well.' Stepping back, Morpheus went for a run up and sailed across through the air in one great leap, his coat billowing out behind him. Doing a somersault, he landed safely on the other side. Edward gaped at him in shock and amazement. 'You must free your mind, Edward!'

With a nervous nod, Edward stepped back right to the other side of the building he was on. Nodding assertively, he ran. Building up speed, he pumped his legs as hard as he could, and leaped as he reached the edge. The cold air rushed past him but gravity pulled him down. He was almost at the other edge, but it had escaped his reach; gravity had sent him falling towards the ground.

_Shit! I'm going to die, I'm going to die! I can't stop-! SHIT!_

A scream leapt from his throat as the cold air rushed past his ears, and he waited for that inevitable crack where automail would dismantle itself or when a leg would break.

His feet touched the ground, but the concrete beneath him sunk deep beneath its surface like a sheet of elastic. As the tension pushed him up the concrete hardened and he fell upon it, yelping in pain.

Suddenly, Morpheus was down on the concrete beside him, crouching down at his side.

"W-What was that supposed to prove?" Edward shouted through clenched teeth, clutching a rib. "That Gravity exists, because if I didn't learn that lesson before I certainly know now!"

'It was supposed to show you how freeing your mind will come as a great advantage for you. As a Redpill, there is no body connected to your mind. With that in mind, you should feel as light as a feather. Now come on, get up, your education isn't finished.'

Edward pulled himself to his feet, brushing himself off, "I was freeing my mind!" He yelled back, "There's just a few stones of metal attached to this mind, ok? It gets a little heavy!"

Morpheus chuckled lightly, and the scenery changed once again before them.

-/\*_;)(-

This time, they were faced with a sea of men and women in business suits, travelling through a current of employees, and Edward was instructed to walk with Morpheus against them.

'Here, in the Matrix, it is completely full of what you've heard the term as "Bluepills"; these are people who are unaware of the existence that lies outside of the so called, Virtual Reality: all of them are unaware that they are really living in a dream world.' Edward focused heavily on the information given; hardly bothered also by the flash of skin and red that disturbed his peripheral view. 'Now, Edward, are you taking it all in so far?' A smirk brightened up on Morpheus's lips.

"Yes, I'm hearing you so far."

He hadn't taken his eyes off him. So Morpheus looked at him oddly before they were carried by the sea of employees.

-/\*_;)(-

'Come on, Ed! Turn your head; she's right there!' Mouse cried at the monitor as the others looked around.

On the screen, Edward walked behind Morpheus with his hands in his pockets, hardly averting his gaze for the beautiful blonde woman in her red dress, offering a seductive wink and puckering her soft red lips. But, her beauty was wasted on a 16 year old view that hardly paid her the attention she deserved.

'You idiot! How could he miss that?'

'Maybe she's not his type.' Tank pointed out. Neo hardly paid attention and just frowned at the behaviour of the others, remaining indifferent.

'Are you kidding me? She's everyone's type!'

'Well, maybe that's not his kind of ballpark.' Switch mused.

'What do you mean?'

'Well, a lot of boys like football, where the ball goes in the net and everyone's drunk and happy. Right Neo?'

'Huh? Oh, yeah.' He nodded in agreement, finally listening.

'While some of the boys,' Switch continued, raising an eyebrow, 'prefer cricket, in which case you get the two cricket stumps with the stump in the middle and the wicket on top. Maybe Edward prefers cricket?'

'So,' Mouse tried to reason, 'You're saying that Edward could be…'

Switch nodded her head slowly for him, and there an "ah" of understanding passed between the two. 'Well, it's a long shot-.'

Mouse picked up a crinkled old magazine from a bench and took up a keyboard and monitor. A black screen for program writing came up, and he set off at work, typing up strings of code and whizzing his head back and forth from the magazine page to the black screen.

Minutes later he grinned,

'Yep, all done. Now we just need to enter this avatar into the training program and see if it turns a head.'

'Or more than one.' Switch smirked. With one button, they all watched as the man in red strolled leisurely down the path.

-/\*_;)(-

'You have to also understand that the Matrix is a system, and that system is our enemy. But when you're inside the Matrix, what do you see? Business people, lawyers, teachers, carpenters; the very minds of the people we are trying to save. But until we do, these people are still a part of that system, and that makes them our enemy.'

Suddenly, Edward froze when a figure breached his peripheral vision. Morpheus' voice faded out from his thoughts. His short black hair was almost messy, his fringe brushing along those deep narrow eyes and giving spirit to that seductive smile that was meant only for him. Edward's eyes strayed lower, finding a body, smooth and hairless, lean and beautifully defined. Lines of muscle definition fell into hiding down the low riding, red, leather pants that gave rise to strong legs. As the man passed him, his eyes locked onto Edward's, and Edward felt completely helpless in his path behind Morpheus. Edward was lost in the gaze of the man as he disappeared in the sea of monotonous people. His smooth backside left Edward's eyes trailing after it.

'Edward?' A voice called to him but he ignored it, not wanting to turn his eyes away from the illusion. 'Edward!'

Edward's eyes snapped back to Morpheus, who, even through the deep sunglasses he could see his eyes were half angered and half disbelieving. 'Were you listening to me, or were you too busy looking at the man in the red pants?' his voice dropped, low and irritated.

"Er…well I was…"

-/\*_;)(-

'He fell for him!' Mouse gasped, 'He actually went for the man over the woman! I feel so unclean!'

'Well, what did I tell you? Just because someone has a set of balls doesn't mean they like to play in the same ballpark.' Switch confirmed.

Neo's mouth had fallen open at the sight that had befallen him.

'It must be true.' Trinity added, 'if Neo and Edward are meant to be complete opposites, then it's likely that Ed is going to be a fan of cricket.'

'Which means that Neo here is definitely a football man?'

'You're damn right I like football!'

-/\*_;)(-

'Look again.' Morpheus ordered, and Edward's head turned back.

Suddenly, a gun was pointed in his face; a man in a deep green suit and sunglasses was facing him with a cold view to kill. His heart felt like it had jumped up into his throat, and he fell back. 'Freeze it.'

The scene before him suddenly froze. The man made no move to pull the trigger, the sea of employees ceased to walk, and even birds that were once soaring across the clearing had frozen in midair.

'In the Matrix,' Morpheus continued, 'All Bluepills have the potential of becoming an Agent; if your mother was a Bluepill, then even she would have the potential of becoming an Agent. If you are not one of us, you are one of them.'

Edward looked up at him blankly; trying to get over the initial shock.

"What are these Agents anyway? I'm sure I've fought them before."

'They are sentient programs; they can move in and out of every software hard-wired to their system, which means that anyone we haven't unplugged is potentially an Agent like I told you before. They are everyone, and they are no one.'

"Isn't there a way of stopping them?"

'Mostly, we have only been able to survive by hiding from them and running from them. But they are the gatekeepers. They are guarding all the doors and they are holding all the keys, which means that sooner or later someone is going to have to fight them. We believe that person to be Neo.'

"Then why was I unplugged?"

'Your purpose here may still be unclear, but even though Neo won't admit it, he does need you. I need you.' Edward's cheeks coloured up in an embarrassed blush.

As Morpheus proceeded to walk away, Edward got up slowly and brushed himself off. Looking back at the Agent, he gulped and finally followed Morpheus through the sea of still bodies.

-/\*_;)(-

The white void surrounded them once more, but this time, two rustic red armchairs were positioned for them, both pointing towards the screen of the television before it. Stepping forward, Morpheus took his seat at the newer armchair, offering Edward to sit at the more scabbed and tattered chair next to him. His eyes widened to the sight of the box in front of him; a plastic box with a dark, reflective glass screen and encased in deep red wood. He hadn't seen anything like it before.

"What is that?"

'Oh, I almost forgot you were technologically uninformed. This is a television. It transports images from a camera to this box for people to view. So, you could be looking at the very jungles of Borneo while sitting in your chair and watching it from New York.'

"Wow..." Edward stared at it in wonder.

'But, my friend, that is not why we're here.'

Taking a hold of a remote control on the arm of the chair, he flicked a button and the screen lit up. Edward's eyes widened at the motion as a picture of a large city brightened up the once dark TV screen. The sight of the Central HQ and the circular rows of houses and shop squares that surrounded it brightened him up inside. It was so familiar, and so thrilling that the bustling city that he knew could create such tranquil peace in his heart. 'This is the world as you know it; as far as the date is concerned, it looks to be about the beginning of the 20th century in the year. As far as our own data is concerned, it is 1915. It exists now as part of a neural-active simulation that we now call the Beta-Matrix.' Morpheus faced him, his face stern and serious, 'You've been living in a dream world, Edward.'

Edward paled as the light feeling began to sink back down into his stomach, falling heavier 'til he felt like he wouldn't be able to stand.

Morpheus adjusted his glasses. 'This... is the real world as it exists today.'

The scene of the blue-skied scenery changed dramatically into a world where all the buildings were reduced to rubble, the HQ nothing more than a broken building upon a scorched ground; broken apart like torn up flesh. Above it was a stormy black sky, twisted with an endless gorge of green bile, before he knew it; they were sitting inside it themselves. Thunder cracked in the sky above them and he got up from his chair and staring around at the city fearfully, only just recognising himself as being in the cobbled courtyard of the military HQ itself.

"...What the..." he stared as Morpheus stood up from his armchair, holding his arms out.

'Welcome... to the desert of the real.'

Edward's eyes grew wider and panic settled in his gut, twisting itself along with fear so great his stomach felt like it was being twisted in two. The fringes of his hair stuck damply to his forehead with sweat. 'The year itself is, in fact, closer to 2199; I can't tell you exactly what year it is, because honestly we don't know.'

"How did this...h-happen?" His voice cracked in his throat.

'We only have little pieces of information, but what we do know for certain is that some point in the early 21st century, humankind was united in celebration as we had given birth to Artificial Intelligence, or A.I. as it is better known.

"A-Artificial Intelligence?" He dared to question.

'A singular consciousness that was able to spawn an entire race of machines. We don't know who struck first between us and the machines, but what we know for certain is that it was us that scorched the sky. At the time the machines were dependent on the sun to provide them with solar power, and we believed that without it they would be unable to survive without that abundant energy source. Throughout Human History, however, we have been dependant on the machines for our own survival. Fate, it seems, is not without a sense of irony.'

"...H-How...? How could alchemy _create _such a thing...?"

'Alchemy had nothing to do with it. You see, as time went on, it seems Physics gathered momentum and developed faster than Alchemy could keep up, and it was that science that gave birth to the machines.'

"...No..." His breathing lost its pattern, quickening, as if tears would lump up in his throat. Morpheus tried to remain insensitive to the reaction, continuing as if Edward was a patient listener with an indifference to the world he lived in.

'As an Alchemist, I'm sure you will know that the human body generates more bio-electricity than a 120-volt battery and over 25,000 BTVs of body heat. Combined with a form of fusion, the machines have found all the energy they would ever need.' Suddenly, they were transported to a platform, on which stood them both and the two armchairs. Below them lay the all too familiar scene of the fields of pink pods in their rows on the endless sea of towers; machines gliding along between them, picking on the humans that inhabited them in their early minutes. Edward glared upon it, as if this was the first time he had ever laid eyes upon it. More fear twisted in his stomach, and he clutched to Morpheus' arm as an unholy wind tossed them about.

'In these fields, humans are no longer born. We are grown.' More shock enveloped his mind, he didn't want to take it in, and yet his brain wouldn't let the information go, hoarding it and repeating it in the back of his mind until it could not be recycled for brighter news. 'I wouldn't believe it for the longest time, but it was until I saw the fields with my own eyes; until I had seen them liquefy the dead, so they could be fed intravenously to the living that I came to realize the obviousness of the Truth.'

Edward gulped heavily, "Th-The Truth...?"

'The Matrix exists... to keep us Humans under control as we inhabit this computer-generated dream world known as the Matrix. We are kept under control, you see, in order to change a human being into this.' Suddenly, they were back in the white void, and Morpheus held up from his pocket a black and orange-topped battery. His heart thrummed in panic, his legs shook until they buckled beneath him.

Tears stung at his cheeks, running down them in teeth-clenched rage.

"Humans... as fuel...?" He hissed at Morpheus, "E-Ever since that day, when we lost our bodies, our whole _lives _depended on an answer that would return us to normal! Years later we've found ourselves chasing after a _fuckin' _Philosopher's Stone but apprehended ourselves from using it because of how it was created; taking in _Human lives _for _selfish gain_!" more tears raged down his cheeks as he took in angered breaths. "In the past month of my recovery, I always had the one thought in my mind; that maybe this place could give me an answer that would allow me to regain mine and my brother's body, without going to such expenditure as Human Sacrifice. I believed it even more so, when you said that I was better off here than in a dream world. But..." He breathed, glaring up at Morpheus with golden fire burning in his eyes, "Tell me, Morpheus; you who holds all the answers...HOW IS THIS _BETTER OFF_? IT'S THE SAME DAMN THING! NOTHING HAS CHANGED!" He screamed until his voice cracked, his whole body shook as his hands clutched at his hair, balling it into tight fists as he cried with mournful tears.

"I DON'T WANT THIS ANYMORE! TAKE ME BACK!" The lump grew larger in his throat as more tears swept down his cheeks. "I WANT TO BE A BLUEPILL! ERASE MY MEMORY! I WISH I WAS IGNORANT OF THIS! I DON'T CARE IF I BECOME AN AGENT! IT WOULD HAPPEN SOONER OR LATER!..P-Please..." He stifled finally, "...l-let me go..." He cried pitifully.

Morpheus looked down at him sorrowfully, and crouched down beside him.

'I'm sorry, Edward, I never said this would be easy. I just said it would be the Truth.' He said soothingly to him, ruffling his hair.

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" he seethed. Morpheus quickly pulled his hand away.

'Tank, get him out of here, now!'

-/\*_;)(-

His eyes flew open. He shook in the chair, trying to get out.

"Get me out of this thing!" He screamed, panicking.

'Just take it easy, Ed.' Trinity soothed, detaching the strap to his foot.

"Just get this cable out! Please!" He tried to yank himself out of the chair.

'Hang on! Hold still!' Morpheus was slid off the chair once the cable had been taken out, pushing through the others as Edward struggled against Trinity. Swiftly, she pulled cable from out of his head, and Edward flew off the chair, falling on the floor with a crash.

'Edward?' Trinity went down on the floor to him, rolling him on his back. 'He's passed out.'

-/\*_;)(-

Edward woke up slowly, the towel covers and hard mattress were familiar to the touch; hardly soft, and hardly of any comfort. He clenched the covers in his fingers, averting his gaze away from Morpheus, who he knew now to be sitting beside him.

'I feel I owe you an apology; I shouldn't have unloaded all of that information on to you like that. I can see now it was too much for you to take in.'

"...so, I'll never be able to go back...?" Edward sighed, his head resting deeply in his pillow.

'No; but would you want to?'Edward shifted on his bed with uncertainty. Morpheus breathed a sigh. 'We have a rule here... we never free a mind once it reaches a certain age. It's dangerous, and the mind has trouble letting go. I thought that, at your age, there wouldn't be much of a problem accepting the Truth, but it seems that with the things you have already endured and because of your convictions you had trouble believing it. I shouldn't have been so blunt.'

"No, you were right: the only way I'm going to learn something is straight and honestly. If you had sugar-coated it, then I wouldn't have learnt a thing. I don't want to be treated like a child, and I don't want any special favours from you."

'As you wish.' Morpheus smiled, and silence breached them.

"...I can remember that time when I was transported through the Gate of Truth. I saw everything in there; the facts of the world were pouring into my brain, I felt like I was going to burst at the seams from it all. But I didn't see nearly as much as I thought, and now, after going into the Construct, and hearing all of that, I feel like the Gate must have cheated me out of a few essential facts after giving up those limbs."

'And yet we cannot escape it, the Truth.' Morpheus smiled at him. '...There's someone I would like you to meet; hopefully she'll bring a lighter mood to your predicament.'

"...Who is she?" Edward gaze finally fixed onto his.

'The Oracle; a guide who can help you find your path.'

"My path...?"

'You see, a path is not without its sense of belonging, and while you are with us; I'm sure it's that sense of belonging that you yearn for right now, is it not?' Edward looked at him puzzled, but nodded finally when he had grasped an understanding. 'Don't worry; I'll take you to see her soon.' He made ready to get up before finally sitting down again. 'I almost forgot. In the many wars we've fought, we've had some prosthetics around the ship but none of our crew uses them so I had forgotten we had any. But, while you were asleep, I went looking around the ship, and found an old one for you.' To his side, he gestured to a prosthetic left leg. 'I know it's not as sophisticated as automail, but it's the best we've got for now. I think it's your size, but I don't know. At least it'll make walking easier.' He smiled.

Taking the prosthetic out of his hands, Edward rolled up a trouser leg, strapping the base to the stump as he had done many times before when he put on old spares in the midst of automail maintenance at the Rockbell residence. Manoeuvring himself to the edge of the bed, he got up onto his feet slowly, hobbling on one foot as the prosthetic stiffly refused to move. Slowly, movement seemed to grow in the prosthetic, and he placed it on the ground, walking about the room at his own pace.

'Well? How is it?'

"It's great, thanks."

'I'm sorry I haven't been able to pull an arm up out of anywhere, but I'll let you know as soon as a right arm is found.'

"Thanks, Morpheus." Edward smiled grateful, wrapping his arm around the man at the shoulder, hugging him tightly.

'Well, err... ahem. It's quite alright.' Morpheus nodded as Edward let go. 'Anyway, you'll probably be hungry; I'll show you where the crew are eating.'

"What time is it now, anyway?"

'About time for breakfast.' Edward followed Morpheus close behind, looking about the corridors as he did.

Once he was shown the room, Edward sat himself down at a seat at the table.

'Now, I realise you haven't quite met everyone yet. Next to you on your left is Mouse, the one on your right is Trinity. The one opposite her is Neo, there's Apoc next to him, and next to Switch is Cypher and the one at the other side is Tank. His big brother, Dozer, is in the main control room. Don't worry about remembering their names; you won't forget. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got some work to do.' Morpheus left the room quickly, and Edward was left to the mercy of the other crew members, all of whose names he hadn't taken in.

"So..." Edward laughed nervously, "What's for breakfast?" Trinity smiled, and getting up took a bowl and filled it up, and put it down in front of him with a spoon at its side. "Oh," he frowned, "I should've known."

'Sorry there,' Trinity smiled, 'that's all we've got.'

"Well, if I was ever going to have a last meal, then it's always reassuring to know I've got good ol' _gloop _by my side." He joked irritably, spooning some on and dropping it in with a frown of distaste. "Is there honestly nothing else?"

'That _gloop _there is a single celled protein combined with synthetic amino, vitamins, and minerals. It's got everything the body needs.' Tank filled in. Edward spooned a little into his mouth.

"They say that about porridge, but honestly, I don't trust anything that has to have milk poured in. You might as well eat dried up oats." He scowled, but let it dissipate as Mouse turned to him with a shy smile.

'I saw you take the...err, training program. You know, I wrote that program.' He grinned. 'I, uh, saw you eye that man on the street.'

Neo rolled his eyes at him.

"M-Man..? What man?" Edward asked nervously as panic fell to the pit of his stomach.

'The one in red of course! It's funny though, I wouldn't, uh, have thought you'd have a, uh, _thing _for him. You were the last one on my mind to like cricket.'

"Cricket? What are you talking about? The guy just looked familiar, that's all." Edward gulped down another spoonful of gloop.

'Well, of course he looked familiar!' He grinned even wider as he brought a magazine out onto the table. 'He's only the face of Calvin Klein!'

"Calvin-what?" Edward dropped the spoon down in his bowl, and brought the magazine in front of him, turning the pages curiously until that man stared seductively up at him once again. His cheeks coloured up red, spreading about his face like a paint stain; he could almost hear that snide bastard's remarks rumbling in his ear.

'Firstly, Mouse, stop questioning him about his ballpark preferences,' Switch reached over the table, taking up the magazine, 'Secondly, stop stealing _my _magazine,' she whacked it around Mouse's head before sitting back down, 'and thirdly, go and fuck around with someone else's wicket.' She scowled menacingly at him.

'Pay no attention to her, Edward; she probably likes football just as much as Neo does.' Mouse grinned.

'I do _not_!'

Edward's face brightened into a grin as Mouse yelped suddenly. 'Ow, Switch! That was my leg!'

'Yeah, and next it'll be your face!'

Edward couldn't hold it in anymore and he broke the violence with a laugh. The others looked puzzled at him, and Switch smirked.

'Come on, Ed, it wasn't that funny.'

"N-No, it's not that!" he chuckled, grasping his side, "Y-You just remind me of my subordinates back in Central." The laugh settled away and he wiped a mirthful tear from his eye.

'Subordinates?' Mouse asked.

"In the military headquarters where I worked we'd all work together in one office, and sitting here with you guys now just reminds me of that." He grinned, and continued to eat his meal, leaving the others puzzled.

-/\*_;)(-

'Morpheus, the ship is now up to broadcast depth.' Dozer finished tapping on the keyboard, smiling over at Morpheus as he did.

'Thanks, now is as good a time as any.'

"For what?" Edward frowned, letting himself be led into a fur-lined chair.

'To see the Oracle.' He smiled.

Before Edward knew it, he was back in the Construct.

-/\*_;)(-

'Ok Edward put this on.' Morpheus handed him a leather jacket, which dangled at around his ankles, the shoulders dropped off the side of him.

"It's a little big..." Edward fidgeted.

'Don't worry; you'll probably grow into it.'

Neo smirked. 'Yeah, when's that going to happen?'

"Shut up! I'm 16; I believe there's going to be a growth spurt any day now!"

'If you mean years then yeah, sure.'

'Stop it, you two!' Morpheus yelled, 'I don't want you two at each other's necks! You're supposed to be working together!'

"I will if he will!" Edward snarled at Neo, resisting the temptation to stick his tongue out at him.

'Now, I don't want to be hearing any of it from you two while we're out.'

Dark shades that lay open on a shelf glinted, catching Edward's eyes, and he picked them up, looking at them with hint of interest.

"Do you think I'll need sunglasses on? The Agents might recognise me if I don't."

'That's a fair point; your eye colour is a little unusual. Fine, put them on.' Morpheus smiled, watching as Edward propped them on the bridge of his nose.

'Copycat.' Neo muttered.

"Oh yeah? And where do you think you copied _your _style from? Morpheus? _You're _the one who's the Copycat!"

'What have I just said?' Morpheus sighed. 'Take us in, Tank.'

-/\*_;)(-

They found themselves standing in a garage, a phone next to it.

Pulling out his cell phone, he began speaking on it, leaving Edward in confusion of the contraption that he had held in his hand.

"What is that thing?" he whispered to Neo.

'It's a cell phone. Don't tell me you don't know what one is!'

"I'm sorry if my people find your technology so pointless." Edward frowned

Neo sighed heavily, 'A cell phone is like a normal phone, only you can carry it around in your pocket: no wires attached.'

"Wow!"

'You don't have to act all impressed.' He frowned, rolling his eyes.

"But I am! I never thought something like this could be invented!"

'Right,' Morpheus replaced the cell phone back into his pocket. 'Get in the back seat you two; we're going to see the Oracle.'

As Edward climbed into the back seat, Neo frowned, 'I assume you know what a car is, right?'

"Of course I do! I'm not stupid!" He scowled. "Although, this is more modern than what I know."

As they shut the car doors, they drove out of the garage and up the road, hoping to receive a path that they needed to walk.


	6. Darkness

He felt so weak; he wasn't sure what had happened. The last thing he remembered was something shattering inside him and the feeling of being pulled that filled him up with sick dread. But here, this was rather unexpected. He felt as if he was floating in tranquillity, as if he was a child again, letting himself float smoothly to the surface of a deep and gentle flowing river. Except, this didn't feel like it had a destination, just stationary, yeah, that's the word he was looking for. Tranquil, stationary; peaceful.

His eyes were hard to pull open; they ached as if they'd never been used. Between the slits of their opening, he witnessed pink blurry fuzz, strange and the perfect fuel for curiosity that he had ever come across. If this was the afterlife, then someone must've given him glowing pink wallpaper. Not that he was offended at all by the colour; it just didn't seem like his way of spending eternity.

Still, he couldn't open them, and yet his mind seemed to be picking up from its lag and buzzing once again from the reawakening of his mental gears. Floating here still, he came upon an occurrence in his head.

_Pink...flesh pink...like...a womb? Did I die...? Is this...reincarnation...? A new beginning then...it must be._

His consciousness slipped along with the birth of this comprehension, soothed to sleep by the sound of his own heart beating.

Ice cold water splashed around him. The force of the current pulled him under. His arms scrabbled weakly for the surface. It was too much work. His chest screamed for oxygen. His nerves roared from the cold. He was gulping in water. His legs kicked as if he had only just remembered how. He gasped as his lungs greeted the air. His legs and arms struggled to keep himself afloat.

_Where am I? How did I-? What's happening? _

Suddenly, a light up above gave some fraction of hope. It gleamed brightly, almost blinding his aching eyes. As his head dipped under once again, a crane scooped him up, pulling him above the surface and up towards the light. He sighed finally, knowing he was safe from drowning.

_Some birth that was. _

Two men pulled him away from the hatch and the crane released him. He shivered, and he was suddenly being rubbed vigorously by towels. He clutched one around him, taking in the warmth it provided, even as it got sopping wet. Looking up in the bright room, a woman stood before him. Her dark skin radiated warmth as she stepped closer to him, she crouched low and he could see her shiny black hair tied back. She wore deep red flannel clothes, and she gave him a curious look.

'Where did he come from?' she asked a man that stood behind him.

'We don't know. Sparks and I just found him floating in the sewers.' The man replied.

'I'm sure he's grateful for being saved, but is he going to help us?' She snapped.

'I don't know.'

She looked down at him, 'Who are you, boy?' He stared up at her in confusion.

"L dep uruub (I am sorry). Zekadiu gleg brex vadeb? (What did you say?)" She looked just as puzzled as the boy did.

'That doesn't sound like a language I've heard before.' Another man commented.

'Is it a language that is native to the Matrix?' She asked Ghost.

'I don't think so, Niobe.' He answered.

'Ghost, get this boy some medical attention. Sparks; check the network for his physical traits. He doesn't look normal.' She frowned his way and left them to their charge.

'You'll have to excuse the captain, some say she was born with a rod in her pod, and then, one thing led to another, and next thing you know you've got a ramrod for a captain.' Sparks chuckled.

'Idiot.' Ghost scowled as the boy was beginning to lose consciousness. 'He doesn't even understand you.' Shaking his head in disapproval as he lifted the boy in his arms; he was so light. He laid the boy on the table, and began to hook him up.

'What do you think we should call him?'

'He's a kid, Sparks, not a pet.'

'But while he's here, he's got to have a hacker name, right?'

'But who says he was a hacker?'

'Well, we don't know his real name, do we?'

'Erm...how about...Reggie.' He suggested randomly.

'Hm...I guess he looks like a Reggie. Do you think he does?'

'I don't know what a Reggie's meant to look like. I wasn't even taking it seriously.' Ghost scowled, getting out the acupuncture needles. 'Help me with this will you? His muscles have atrophied. More than you'd think they would actually.' Sparks took a handful of needles out of Ghosts hands, helping him insert them in the many different places.

'At least put some thought into naming, will you? He's going to have to have that name for, well, probably the rest of his life.' Sparks sighed.

'I told you, he's not a pet. And anyway, who's to say he won't like it?'

'Well, we can ask him when he wakes up, can't we.'

'If he can understand you; aren't you supposed to be researching the network for his unusual traits?'

'One thing at a time, Ghost, I'm helping you with this first, aren't I?'

'Fine,' he sighed, 'When we're done here, I'll monitor him and you can research the network like you've been told.'

'Yeah, yeah, right away, mate.'

'That's _first _mate to you.' Ghost growled. Sparks chuckled brightly, shrugging away one of Ghosts' worst tempers.

-/\*_;)(-

'So why is it that you guys only seem to wear leather in the Matrix?' Edward sighed, propping his feet up on the back of the front passenger seat.

'No one said you had to wear leather,' Morpheus replied, 'it's a choice, but the majority of our crew choose to wear leather as their RSI anyway, and I doubt you would want to stick out like a sore thumb if you chose to wear anything else. Besides, leather is practical and easy for manoeuvrability.'

'Also, with half the flannel crap we wear in the Real World, leather is an expensive and welcomed alternative.' Neo grinned.

'Either that or you just want to copy your favourite action fighting super hero.' Edward leered.

'Ok, then why do _you _wear leather.' Neo returned.

"Because, it's easy to move in." Edward frowned.

'Fair enough, then who would you say looks better in leather?'

"Out of who? The crew on our ship?"

'No, celebrities, actors.'

"Err...not a clue."

'You've been reading the magazines, haven't you? How about we get someone else to roll the ball, Morpheus, who would you say is the best celebrity or actor to pull off leather?'

'Hm...I would say Halle Berry.' Morpheus smiled to himself.

'Pft, Halle Berry, no way.' Neo said with disgust.

'What, she's moderately desirable.'

'Yeah, for a 16 year old's poster dream.'

"You mean "wet dream"!" Edward quipped.

'Ah, so you _do _know her!'

"Hey, shut up!"

'Then _you _say someone!'

"Erm...ok. How about that _Xingese _chick from...err, what's that film...Charlie's...Anals!"

'You mean Angels! And, _Xingese_?'

"Yeah, you know slanty eyes and all that."

'You mean Lucy Liu.'

"Yeah, that's the one! Lucy Liu!"

'Nah, you're way off! Two words, Uma Thurman! That's where the money is!'

"Oh yeah! I read about her! Horse face!"

'You fuckin' asshole! That's Uma Thurman you're talking about!'

"So what! Lucy Lui could beat her any day of the week!"

'Watch Kill Bill, Edward! LUCY LIU DIES!' Neo retorted.

"NOOO! Lucy Liu!"

'Uma Thurman!'

"God dammit! Lucy Liu!"

'UMA THURMAN!' A slap war ensued between Edward and Neo, each shouting their favoured actress until one would hopefully lose, or give up. 'Ow, Ed! Your automail hurts!'

"Ha HA! Lucy Liu!"

'That's it!' Morpheus crowed, 'I have had it up to _here _with you two! Shut up now or I drive you two onto the highway and open the doors!'

The slap war ceased, and Neo folded his arms with a tinge of shame, while Edward tucked his hands behind his neck, hardly seeing the threat of the highway as something dire.

"Either way, at least I can wear leather better than that emotionless hussy of a girlfriend that you call Trinity."

'Oh _hell _no!' Neo sent a right hook across Edward's face, Edward grunted against it in pain.

"AH! Morpheus! Neo punched me! And it was _really _hard!" he cried childishly.

'You pathetic little shit! She is twice the man you'll ever be!' Neo screamed.

Edward kept his mouth shut. "I'm not going to deny that!"

'Morpheus! Tell him to shut up about Trinity!'

"Why should he? You _landed _yourself in that one!"

'That is IT!' His foot hit the brake and the car screeched to a halt. Edward's legs rode up the back of the chair, his head tipped down the seat and off, screaming as he was balanced upside down. 'If you two don't _shut up_ I'm going to turn this car around and _no one _will get to see the Oracle! Now! What do you say to each other?' Each muttered an apology with half-hearted earnestness. 'That's better.' Morpheus started up the car again, driving along the road with Edward's body still balanced upside down. Neo watched as Edward struggled to right himself without success, smirking to himself.

'Hey, Edward, while you're down there, shine my shoes.'

"How about if I take my right fist and shimmy it up your ass!" He quipped with a taste of venom on his tongue.

'As if you're sure your arm could reach way up there.'

"Ok then, how about _married couples_ in leather instead. Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie; my left foot up your ass! 6 inches thick of prosthetic steel tickling your taste buds from the down up!" He struggled about, his left foot kicking Neo's head. Morpheus sighed, chuckling lightly.

_What's the point in stopping them anymore?_

Suddenly he pulled up against the sidewalk.

"Please don't turn around! I'll be good!" Edward protested.

'No, we're here.'

"We're here?" He ceased his struggling.

'Yes, soon you will see the Oracle.' He grinned as he turned to them both.

After getting out of the car, Morpheus walked across to Edward's side, opened the door and stood back as Edward fell out sideways. 'Come on, Edward. There's no time to waste.'

-/\*_;)(-

He tapped his fingers across the keyboard, spying upon the screen before as he was pulling up information from detailed search criteria. He knew many codes; he knew the codes to unlock many possibilities, except the ones this newcomer brought. A new language, unusual traits; how could he be sure the boy was even from the Matrix? New things popped up on his monitor, his eyes grew wide with the intensity of the situation.

'Niobe?' He called from his seat. She stepped to his side, coming from the direction of the cock pit.

'What is it?' She asked, looking into the screens on his monitor.

'It's strange. Someone may have tampered with the network listing.' He tapped on his keyboard, making sure that nothing was getting past him.

'How do you mean?'

'There isn't just the one Matrix anymore. Someone's listed down the Beta-Matrix. Do you think it's a joke?'

'I'm not sure; do we know where the listing's come from?'

'No, the connection is anonymous.' His eyebrows knitted in puzzlement, and a sense of frustration. This was the last thing he needed; something to make his job that much harder.

'Does it show any connections between that Matrix and the boy?' She could hardly believe it either, but she restrained herself, withholding the composure of a captain at all times, and all costs.

'Someone's been filling in more and more new information about the Beta-Matrix as we speak, but so far, the connection between it and the boy is getting clearer.' He kept pulling up new language files and dictions, new maps and landscapes that he hadn't come across. He was finding files and military records, all in translated English. Someone had been doing most of the work for him.

'You keep working on it then.' She sighed, making her way back to the cock pit as if her inner being hadn't been wavered.

'How's the kid doing?' Sparks asked, hoping she would stop and answer.

'I saw him a while ago with Ghost. He apparently hasn't woken up since he first spoke. It may be a while before he wakes up again though.'

'Alright, I'll check up on him later then.'

'Back to work then.' She left for the cock pit, and left him clicking at his monitor.

As he worked further into the night, comparisons between what the boy had answered in his confusion became ever more similar in comparison to the written documents that he clicking through in both military written reports and literature alike. The country had apparently already been named by the discoverer of the Beta-Matrix, and the same name kept cropping up in the documents both old and new. It posed no familiarity to the names of the original Matrix, and so he could be sure of its existence in that country.

Amestris.

-/\*_;)(-

The three clambered into the elevator of the apartment building and the doors clicked shut dully.

'Is this too modern for you?' Neo smirked as the doors shut.

"Shut up, I know what an elevator is." Edward scowled.

'I thought we had stopped this.' Morpheus eyed them with a taste of disapproval. 'You are about to see the Oracle, so I expect best behaviours from _both _of you.'

"So, is this the guide you were telling me about before? The guide to my path?"

'Yes,' Morpheus smiled, glad that Edward had remembered.

"So, what is she exactly?"

'She's a program who has been in assistance of the Resistance since the beginning.'

"What's the Resistance?"

'The organisation of which me, Neo, you and the crew of my ship are a part of - among many others. We are humans who have been freed from the Matrix, in other words, Redpills, or people born in Zion who are fighting in the war against the Machines.'

"So, if the Oracle has been helping the Resistance since its conception, then when did it begin?"

'About a century ago, when The One freed the first of us.' Morpheus smiled down at him as the elevator doors opened.

"A hundred years? So she must be pretty old, right?"

'Of course.' Morpheus answered. Neo bent down to whisper in his ear.

'She's so old that her tits touch her toes!'

"Eww! Gross!" Edward yelped.

'You two, enough. Do I have to keep telling you two to _behave_?' He frowned as they headed for the apartment door. Edward looked up to Morpheus with a nervous gaze. 'You can knock, Edward. This is your path now, not mine and not Neo's.' Nodding assertively, Edward made to knock on the door, when suddenly it was pulled open.

A woman held the door open. 'Oh, you again. Honestly Morpheus, if you keep visiting so often we're going to have to ask you to pay rent.'

Morpheus smiled as he stepped through the door, Neo and Edward following behind. 'It's another important matter. That's all.'

Morpheus motioned for Edward to sit down on the couch, and the three of them sat, waiting for the Oracle. Nervously, Edward placed his hands flatly together, his eyes shut in thought.

'Are you praying?' Neo asked, puzzled.

"No, it's just when I perform alchemy I always put my hands together. I've done it so many times it's become a habit."

Morpheus squeezed his hand with reassurance. 'Don't worry about it Edward. The Oracle will help you in whatever way she sees fit.' Edward gazed down out of Morpheus's gaze.

"Morpheus, since I got out of the Beta-Matrix, I've been meaning to ask: Is it possible to perform Alchemy in the Matrix?"

Morpheus thought for a moment.

'Tank would be a better person to ask, but as far as I know the Alchemy program has not been seen among the other programs of the Matrix, so honestly I don't think so.'

"And what about in the Real World?" Edward looked up to him with a glint of hope.

'I don't know.' Morpheus answered bluntly. Edward sighed sadly.

'The Oracle will see you now.' The woman answered, coming down the corridor from the Oracle's kitchen.

Edward stood up nervously from his seat and followed the woman down the corridor. As he stepped through the beaded curtains into the kitchen, the woman shuffled past him and back down the corridor, leaving him at the mercy of the Oracle.

-/\*_;)(-

'How's the kid doing?' Sparks stood by the table, watching the still unconscious boy as he lay naked, apart from a towel covering his decency and the many array of needles that poked into his skin. Stubbles of light hair were coming through on his head.

'His muscles are developing nicely.' Ghost answered. 'Soon I'll be able to take out the needles. Then I'll just need to do a few more checkups before we can move him to his own room.' He monitored the boy's heart as he spoke. 'How's that research coming on?'

'It seems that someone's discovered another Matrix.'

'Another Matrix? That's not possible.' Ghost dismissed.

'It is possible. I've been able to look through documents and records of the place, and from what I can tell; the language is similar to the boy's.'

'So is it learnable?'

'I've already downloaded the file we need.'

'Good, plug me up and let me learn it.' After a few more checks, the boy was deemed possible to leave unattended, and Ghost and Sparks went for the main deck.

-/\*_;)(-

'So you must be Edward Elric.' The Oracle smiled from her table, having just taken a fresh batch of cookies out of the oven. She began to assort them on a plate, placing them in the middle of the table.

"And you must be the Oracle?" Edward smiled in return.

'Indeed I am.'

"You look a lot younger than I've been told."

'Neo can be a nice young man when he wants to be, but sometimes what he needs is a good smack around the head. You can give him one from me.'

Edward stood in awe of her, "I-I guess they don't call you the Oracle for nothing."

'Well I wouldn't be much of an Oracle if I couldn't tell you what happened 10 minutes ago. Please, sit down.' She motioned to the chair opposite her.

Edward nervously looked at the seat before eyeing her carefully, "Don't you already know if I'm going to sit down?"

'Of course.'

"Then I don't have a choice?"

'The choice has already been made; all you need to do is understand it.'

Edward took another glance at the chair before he finally sat down and pulled his chair up to the table. "It would've been impolite not to sit."

'Of course.' She smiled knowingly. 'Cookie?'

Edward took one cautiously from the plate, and, taking a bite, relaxed to the taste. "Just like my mom's cooking." He smiled gratefully.

'I told Morpheus you would feel right at home here.'

Edward looked up at her, his smile disappeared and he placed the cookie on the table in front of him.

"Morpheus told me that you would guide me onto my path." He gave her a steely gaze. Her powers were true, he could be sure of that.

'Yes, you are, in a way, the One of your Matrix.'

"The One? Like Neo? Well, I'd hate to break it to you, but there's only one One."

'That may be true, but there were five One's before Neo.'

"He must feel unoriginal. Anyway, what do you mean by, "in a way"?" Edward asked, picking up his cookie again to chew.

'Your purpose is different to Neo's: his is to help the resistance and bring the war between the humans and the Machines to an end. Your purpose is to help him.'

"Help him? Neo? I'm sure you already know but-."

'You and Neo do not get along. That's true but you need to serve as his guide, just as I serve as a guide for the resistance.'

"So you're saying that I'll have powers of precognition? That's going to put you out of a job, right?"

'I appreciate your concern, but that's not what I meant. You'll act as a search engine and collector of information for Neo's goal. Anything that could help him in the slightest, you will provide. He'll be counting on you to absorb as much information as possible.'

"And what if I choose not to?"

Her patient smile fell from her face. 'Then Zion falls, and so will you.'

Edward flinched from her answer and looked down out of her gaze. He finally looked back into her eyes, trying to summon the courage and continued, "What about if I chose to be wired back into the Beta-Matrix?"

'That's not possible. Once your carrier-signal inside the pod has been disrupted, it can no longer resume. Even if you could, you would re-enter the Matrix with the pre-required knowledge of the Matrix, and your mind would reject its ideals. Not to mention that the Agents would find and try to kill you again.'

Edward sighed sadly, "So, I really don't have a choice then?"

'As I said before: the choice has already been made; all you need to do is understand it.'

Edward turned his face away from her, he should've expected that answer by now.

'Don't look so disheartened by it all, Edward. You already have many of the attributes for this duty. You have book smarts, an enviable ability to focus and a very good memory. This should be easy for you.' She gave him a reassuring smile, but he chose instead to stare down at his hands resting on the table, toying a little with the half-eaten cookie.

"It wasn't my choice to be unplugged from the Beta-Matrix." He seethed through clenched teeth, feeling a lump grow in his throat.

'You're still hung up on that, huh? You were dying; there was no other choice that Morpheus could've made.'

"But it wasn't _my _choice."

'There was no time, and besides, would you rather have died than be alive now?'

"If it's to get away from this job, then I wouldn't mind."

'I can understand your defiance, but what would you gain from rejecting your purpose? The destruction of humanity? Never being able to see your brother again? How would that be beneficial to you?'

After a few moments, he sighed finally, resigning himself. "It wouldn't." He muttered, like a guilty child facing his mother.

'Exactly.'

Edward stayed downcast, staring at his cookie.

'Think of it this way.' The Oracle continued, 'Morpheus has already said that you are free to look for your brother in your spare time. It will take your mind off things.'

Edward finally looked up into her gaze. "Do you think Al was taken out of the Matrix along with me?" A small smile started to appear along his lips at the hopeful thought.

'You know as well as I do that a suit of armour cannot ingest a red pill.'

"So then, is he still in the Beta-Matrix?"

'You two met a terrible encounter with the Agents. Assuming that he survived from that, he could be anywhere by now.'

"I guess it wouldn't be too much to tell me where he is now, would it?"

'Of course I know where he is, but then where would the fun be in finding him?'

Edward smiled widely, "It wouldn't be much fun at all."

'See? That's better. Just remember this piece of advice: even in death there is knowledge.'

He seemed a little taken back by the advice, but frowned at it.

"What do you mean by that? If you die, then your brain is unable to take in oxygen, never mind knowledge! It doesn't make any sense!" Edward laughed.

'In time, you will come to understand what it means.' The Oracle reassured, and with that Edward finished off his cookie in a few mouthfuls.

He stood up from his seat, pushing it under the table. "Is this all I needed to hear?"

'Yes, that's all I can help you with. Would you like another cookie?' She gestured to the plate.

Edward was about to reach out and take one, but then refrained, a smirk forming on his lips.

"You already know if I'm going to take a cookie or not, don't you?"

'I wouldn't be much of-.'

"An Oracle if you didn't. I know."

'You little scamp, are you trying to put me out of a job?' She smiled playfully.

"I appreciate your concern, but I have my own duty now."

'So you've decided to accept your duty?'

"Yeah, but I'm going to need a new name for myself. I mean, I'm pretty sure Morpheus, Neo and Trinity didn't just happen by on a parent's whim."

'Of course; but I'll leave that up to you.' The Oracle smiled.

Edward paused for a moment. "But you already know what I'm going to call myself."

'Of course.'

Smirking, Edward took another cookie of the plate, taking a bite out of it.

"One for the road."

'So this is good bye for now?'

"Yeah, you've been a big help, thanks." With that, he headed for the beaded curtains.

'Oh, Edward, tell your father that I send my love.'

Edward's head whizzed round towards her, but she waved him goodbye, and he was forced to leave. He left with a bad taste in his mouth as he finished eating his cookie, returning to Morpheus and Neo who were still waiting in the living room, sat on the sofa.

As Edward walked on past them to the door, Morpheus and Neo joined him.

Neo began, 'So what did she- Ow!' Edward had reached up and slapped across the back of the head. 'Hey! What was tha-!'

"The Oracle." He uttered simply.

Neo gave a deep scowl, realising what the slap was for.

'Edward, you don't have to tell us what the Oracle said. She told you exactly what you needed to hear.' He smiled, placing his hand on Edward's shoulder and squeezing it in comfort. Edward looked up to him, smiling and the three boarded the open elevator, taking it down.

-/\*_;)(-

_That was a nice sleep._

He smiled in a relaxed way as he awoke, feeling beneath him a somewhat a lumpy mattress and flannel sheets. It wasn't a comfy bed, but he had felt so worn out after he lost consciousness that anything would do, even a hard floor would have provided a decent night's rest for him. A stretch of confusion lay in his mind, and it caused his face to darken slightly.

_When _was _the last time I slept? It must be years now since I've really slept like that. I can't even seem to recall it. What was I doing that day? _

Suddenly, he let out a titter of laughter, now giggling at his own idiocy at the thought of before. It was one of the first things that had crossed his mind since he awoke in that pink womb thing.

_Of course, if that was really reincarnation, then I wouldn't have any memories of my previous life, would I? Oh boy, you really are dozy. But, what was I doing before the pink thing? Before I was suddenly floating? _

He trailed his mind as far back as he could muster, closing his eyes to concentrate. It took him a while, this mind of his seemed much slowly than he thought it was and he found that thinking too much was giving him a headache. He rubbed his head in frustration and mild pain, and stopped for the moment.

_Was it something important? Or urgent? Was I even alone? What was I doing?_

He hugged his hands behind his neck, trying to think back; retrace his steps. He looked about him as he thought, taking in the very small room and the solely metal walls.

_Hm...Looks like something out of a cheap sci-fi novel. Am I in a janitor's closet or something? _

He brushed a hand through his hair, sighing deeply. It was short and thin between his fingers. He glanced at his hand, holding it before his face; studying the intricacy of each finger right down to the centre of his palm.

_A hand. I didn't realise I had one of these before now. It certainly has been a while._

His hand stroked the flannel covers curiously.

_I didn't realise how rough these were. Hm...Electrical signals from my fingers are rushing up my nerves, jumping the synapses as they go until they reach my Central Nervous System, which tells my brain that these covers are rough to the touch. Why am I thinking about it so seriously? Is it because I've..._

A vision flashed before his eyes. Men smaller than him in dark green suits clambered inside, he couldn't feel it but he could hear the tinny noise of their thumps against his metal. They restricted his movement, as him his limbs were being tied down against his body; they're greater strength took advantage of his metal shell. His brother, he could see him now in his mind, was cowering from him, rolling away from every attack that was thrust upon him.

Before he knew it, his brother lay bruised on the floor, and a man that was still outside of his armour grasped him at the neck. Suddenly, pain shook through him and he gasped from the new, horrible feeling. Something shattered in him, he could hear it, and a force pulled him out as everything around him faded to black.

His eyes widened, tears welled up and started to trickle down his cheeks. He stared at his hands, almost in disbelief, blinking as they shook; his whole body shook.

A small smile creased into his lips, joy started to bloom inside of him.

_Finally, the thing that you and I have been working so hard for...I have it back, my body...m-my original b-..._

The door opened to his room as a Xingese-looking man appeared, with a paler man stepping in behind him. The second man looked worried, but it was the first man who enquired about him.

'_Hey, kid, are you ok?' _

The boy looked up at the man, his heart warmed to finally knowing someone who could understand him and he understood in return.

"_Y-Yeah, i-it just...our dream has finally come true." _More tears swelled down his cheeks, and he sobbed into his shaking hands audibly.

'_It's going to be ok, kid. What's your name?'_

The boy looked up at him, still wielding his sad smile,

"_A-Alphonse Elric."_

-/\*_;)(-

He was dragged through the Gate of Truth, the ribbons of information circulated around him, pouring into his brain with such immensity that he felt like he would burst from the seams. His screams echoed throughout the void as he floated through, reaching out for a way of escape. Suddenly, the reams before him flashed, the void was black and the reams were replaced with columned whirls of deep acid green coding full of numbers and foreign symbols he could barely understand. It kept switching back and forth rapidly before settling onto the darker of the two.

His fear multiplied until a ray of hope shined before him. The ray of light took the shape and outline of his mother; he knew it so fluently that it was carved upon his heart. He reached for her, crying out for her shape, her warmth, her singing voice that would lull him away from the nightmare. He knew it so well it was crooning in his ear. He closed his eyes to it, already feeling comforted.

Suddenly, the lullaby grew low and husky until it was unrecognisable. He screwed his eyes disturbed by the change. Then, something burst through and his stomach erupted with pain. He opened his eyes to scream when he suddenly found a familiar pair of golden irises looming and burning over him. The man had hold of his shoulder, his right fingers sticking into his stomach. He looked down upon the foreign objects, watching as volts of blue thrummed through the wound and blood gushed to the floor and from his mouth. The man leaned forward, his lips pressed to his ear and a cold shiver ran down his spine and an icy sweat pervaded his skin.

The words were inaudible, he couldn't make them out; they were just a loud jumble, but somehow, he understood, and his lungs rang out a scream of both pain and horror...

His eyes flashed open with a jolt and he sat up in bed rapidly, his breaths deep and hurried. His forehead was drenched in sweat.

_That was..._

He screwed his eyes up in frustration, finding the whole thing a notion of nonsense, and finally, he laid back down into his bed, pulled the covers over him and shut his eyes.

He laid, eyes shut, until finally he pulled the covers back and sat up again.

_Dammit, why can't I get back to sleep...?_

Those golden irises flashed before him again and a cold shiver ran down his spine.

_Oh, maybe that's why._

Slowly getting out of bed, Edward pulled his clothes on and stepped out of his room.

He stepped down the corridor slowly, listening closely for any footsteps apart from his own, or anyone making sudden movements in their beds; the sound that he may have woken them up. As he stepped towards the kitchen, he heard keyboard clacking from somewhere above him and, stepping for the metal ladder, clambered up lazily towards the main deck, to find the light of the monitors illuminating the large space. He stepped over towards the man working there.

The figure turned around in his seat at the sound of the uneven footsteps, and smiled towards him.

'Hey there Chief, what are you still doing up?'

"Couldn't sleep, bad dream, or something like that." Edward took up a seat next to Tank, glancing at the monitors, all with columns of acid green symbols raining down the monitor screen. "Why are you still up?"

'Morpheus' got me up at all hours studying your Matrix. It's still pretty new, and as far as I see it, I reckon Morpheus won't let me rest until we know absolutely everything there is to know about it.' His gaze never left the monitor.

"What region are you looking into at the moment?" Edward asked, he couldn't tell for himself for the code. It made him wonder how Tank could tell what he was doing.

'I thought I'd keep this interesting and branch out a little to the east.'

"How far?"

'You can't actually see the map on my screen, can you?' Tank looked at him bemusedly.

"Honestly, all I see is code." Edward frowned.

'Don't worry,' Tank laughed, 'when you've been looking at it as long as I have, you don't even see the code anymore.'

"Really? That could take a while." He sighed, "Anyway, are you in the desert right about now, or further on?"

'Nope, I'm in the desert.'

"You must be at the Xerxian ruins."

'Xerxian? Is that the name of the country?'

"No, it's called Xerxes." He corrected.

'I thought so. I've been looking through some old documents, and I almost thought I'd mistranslated them. That's ok, then.' He smiled, sighing a breath of relief. 'We're still on a roll.' He laughed. 'How much do you know about Xerxes, anyway?'

"Not much, I've never been there and Alchemy took up most of my time, so I never took the time to travel there. Besides, my auto-mail makes it extra hard to travel in the desert. The only thing I've heard is that the whole of Xerxes fell in one night, but that's a child's fairy tale."

'I see, I guess you can't be much help then.' Tank sighed.

Edward watched Tank work, until finally a question hit his lips.

"You could help me though."

'What is it?'

"Well, Morpheus was talking about Zion earlier and also about how the One freed the first of you."

'You've been to see the Oracle today, haven't you?'

"Yeah, she told me that if I don't help Neo then Zion will fall."

'Sounds pretty harsh coming from the Oracle.'

"Yeah, but what no one's told me yet is: what's Zion? I mean, how can I help save it if I don't even know what it is?" 

'I guess you're not very familiar with our history.' Tank smiled, 'Zion is the last human city on Earth and the Headquarters for the Resistance.'

"The _last _human city? But I thought the surface of the Earth had become that Desert of the Real?"

'That's the beauty of it, you see, Zion exists underground, close to the Earth's core where it's still nice and warm; right where the machines can't detect us.'

"Have you ever been there before?" Edward asked curiously.

'Been there? I'm a citizen of Zion.' Tank smiled, proud of his origins, it was clear in his eyes. He turned back to his screen tapping away.

"Now I see, you haven't got any holes." Edward looked him up and down, "so you've never been inside the Matrix?"

'Just one of those minor side effects of being born free.'

"So you don't want to go into the Matrix either?"

'Honestly, fighting against the Machines is enough stress for me without having to worry about the Agents too.'

The monitors were still raining green code, so he still wasn't used to it yet. But how could he? He hadn't even known computers before he left his world and was catapulted into this one.

_"I have a feeling I'll never get used to this place." _He thought to himself, without realising he was speaking aloud in his own language.

'Sorry, did you say something Ed?'

"What? Me? No. Where are you now?"

'I've gone further east to another country.'

"Then you must be in Xing, so did you get bored of Xerxes already?"

'Not exactly, Amestris doesn't exactly have a lot of documents on Xerxes, well not any useful ones anyway, and since there's no reading material in Xerxes itself, I thought I'd check a neighbouring country for some useful information.'

"That makes sense, as far as I know on Xing's history, I believe it's been around a lot longer than what Amestris has." Edward stared hard at the screen, hoping to glean something once again from the raining code. He waited in silence while Tank worked, a few minutes later,

'I've managed to access the mainframe of information for this country, but this system isn't familiar with this new language.'

"It's probably just Xingese, you can translate it can't you? I mean, how did you mange to translate Amestrian last time?"

'I'll just have to download the language like last time and convert it to English.' Tank sighed.

"Will that take long?"

'The system's gotten used to this Matrix now so it's gotten a lot faster at processing the information, but it could still take half an hour at the most.'

"I guess that's slow in your terms?"

'Sorry, I forgot you probably don't know what I'm going on about.'

"I think I get the gist, but it still doesn't mean anything to me." Edward rubbed his eyes weakly, remembering how tired he was. He gave out a yawn and picked the sleep from his eyes.

'I could be at this for a while, why don't you get back to bed?'

"I couldn't get back to sleep before, so it's not like I'll sleep now, besides, I want to help out while I'm here." He glared around the room dimly, "Got anything to drink?"

'There should be a jug around here somewhere.'

Using the light from the monitors, Edward found a metal jug and a cup stood on a nearby table. Pouring himself a little, he took a cautious sip before spitting it out and gagging.

"Uh, what is this stuff?" He choked, setting the jug down hard.

'Must be some of our homemade alcohol.' Tank laughed.

"You let me drink alcohol? I'm a minor!"

'Doesn't matter, by the sounds of it you didn't like it much.'

"Pretty strong stuff." He poured the rest of the drink into its jug and sat himself back in his seat, his face contorting with disgust. "That's definitely turned me off alcohol for life."

'Well, you can't say you haven't tried it.'

"Has that download thing finished yet?" Edward asked.

'Yeah, and now that everything's in English, I can search through for mentions of Xerxes.' Tank tapped through, and almost immediately seemed to be pulling up a lot of documents, or at least that's what Tank could see. Edward was still seeing that damned code. 'Here's something.'

"What we got?" Edward looked over Tank's shoulder, hoping the code would go away, or at least that something would transfigure itself from within the code like an optical illusion where you try and spot the submarine within the colourful patterns.

'In these texts, it says that apparently, "Xerxes was the desert civilization of gold, holding knowledge and science above all material riches; a servant could gain his freedom once he became literate."'

"Civilization of gold, huh? Sounds funny for a country that values knowledge more than money."

'Here's something else too, "Despite their vast knowledge in the sciences, they also believed in an afterlife, that once death came upon them they would return to their Promised Land; the home of their Messiah. They hoped to meet the Messiah's eyes, so that they could be welcomed in the city that the Messiah called Zion"! That's amazing! The Xerxian's had already heard of a Zion, long before you did!'

"That does sound weird, but can't Zion be used metaphorically, like in referring to a goal?"

'I don't know, but by the sound of the context, they could be talking about _this _Zion.'

"Does it say what happened to Xerxes?" Edward asked, dismissing the little argument.

'Let's see...' Tank scanned quickly through the text. 'Here it is, "Xerxes developed vastly over time, ruled by a wise king who put his people before his health; decreeing that irrigation ditches be dug throughout the kingdom so that his people's crops may flourish and maintain life throughout the land."'

"That doesn't say _anything_." Edward growled impatiently.

'Well, let me finish.'

"No, let _me _look." Edward pushed through and drew a finger across the screen.

'Does this mean you can't see the code anymore?'

"Here it is, "and so it was decreed, blah di blah di blah, that Operators should stop picking on the pointless stuff and _tell the tired and impatient Messiah what the fuck happened to them!"" _and for that he slapped Tank upside the head.

'OW! That wasn't funny!'

"It wasn't _meant _to be!"

'So that's it then, you're the Messiah in this?'

"I'm tired, I'm a higher rank than you and you've pissed me off!"

'Well if you're tired then get to bed.'

"I told you I can't sleep!" Edward crowed.

'Right, tell you what _oh crankiness, _how about you let me finish what I was about to read and then you can leave me to work, sound good?' Tank gave the deal, and after a short moment, Edward frowned,

"Ok, fine. But only because I'm tired." Edward slumped back in his chair and waited with his chin in his hand for Tank to continue.

'Let's here, "But one night, while the King was gravely ill, it could be seen distantly from Xing the twisting of large black snakes reaching out from the ground to swallow the country whole, and so it was that not a single life walked among the country again, and the Xerxians lived forever in Zion."'

"So the country really did fall in one night."

'There's always some truth in a fairy tale, the Brothers Grimm are a prime example.'

"The Brothers who?"

'That doesn't matter, but what I want to know is why it happened.' Tank fell into deep thought.

"Maybe the Agents got wind of their religion." Edward sniggered.

'That's not funny.'

Suddenly, footsteps were heard behind coming up behind them and Edward whizzed around to find Morpheus stood behind them.

'You two look busy. Working hard?' He smiled.

'Yeah, we're just researching some interesting facts about Xerxes.' Tank said from his monitor screen, back to tapping at his keyboard.

'Sounds interesting, I'll have a look in the morning, but right now, shouldn't you be getting to bed already?' He looked down at him expectantly.

"Yeah, yeah, I said I would go anyway." Edward drawled as he got up limply from his seat. He swayed his way to the ladder and done to the lower deck.

'Sleep well, Edward.' Morpheus smiled.

'Poor kid,' Tank smiled, 'He says he can't sleep, but he'll be all tuckered out.'

-/\*_;)(-

He stepped slowly and quietly through the corridors, using the side wall as his support as he stepped sleepily to his room. He was more tired than he thought, well, more than he would protest. With each dreamy step through the dark corridor, his fingers drew along the doors, counting each one as he passed by; listening out for their snores, making sure that he hadn't woken anyone up with each step he took.

As he turned the knob of his door, he saw a light seep through from the door to his left, not a door he had yet passed.

_Isn't that Neo's room? What's he doing still up?_

He stepped towards the door slowly, sneakily, with his back to the wall; he glanced through the gap in the door.

Two bodies sprawled together, moving rapidly, breaths quick and huffing; moans caught in their throats. Sweat dripped down their forms, held together in a seemingly endless embrace, but each one fought each other for a control that both would inevitably share.

He couldn't take his eyes away, something in the back of his mind told him this was wrong to watch, but it was new to him, he hadn't seen anything like it. His face burned up with embarrassment, but he couldn't ignore them.

Their lips joined together, their slick bodies massaged together, luscious moans told that they enjoyed the friction. Their black hair clung wetly to their brows; only eyes for each other.

Something grasped his shoulder. A gasp escaped his lips. He turned rapidly towards the form behind him, finding Morpheus' eyes glaring into him from the light of the room.

"M-Morpheus!" He whispered, "I-I'm sorry, I was going to bed when I heard them, I didn't know what it was – please forgive me!"

'Shhh… It's not me you should be apologizing to. Come on.' Gently, he led Edward by the shoulder into his room and shut the door.

He slumped down onto his bed. "Honestly, I didn't mean to see them doing that at all, and I wouldn't have if I knew!" He blurted quickly.

'Edward, it's fine, you've done nothing wrong. Anyway, I'll see you in the morning.' Morpheus left the room, shutting the door behind.

Edward lay back on his bed, pushing himself up to his pillow, he sighed lowly, feeling grateful that the wall between his room and Neo's was at least soundproof. He curled himself up, and exhaustion forced his eyes shut.

Pitch black darkness surrounded him from every corner, raining in on him with twisting shadows, until he felt completely blind. Suddenly, light pooled down on him, and he found himself stood under a hot-lamp's spotlight. From its glare, he could make the forms of others stood around him, all with their backs to him. He could recognize them; they were the people of his own Matrix. He ran towards them, but his form never left the spotlight, never getting closer. He called out their names, his arms outstretched. But they never turned towards him, and they walked further on, getting further and further away.

The glare of the light revealed a reflection of him running and of their faces as they walked closer towards the reflecting surface. Their faces, he could see them smiling; smiling and oblivious, it seemed, to his cries. He screamed louder for them, but they did not stir, and carried on walking. They met the reflective surface, and sunk into it. He screamed for them to come back, they were gone, all gone.

He whizzed about, glaring about behind him, finding new forms close behind. The members of the Nebuchadnezzar, that's who he found. Their eyes glared not at him, but through him, all stood in their leather outfits, as if he wasn't there at all, as if they too wondered silently about the forms that disappeared through the surface. They stood in groups, Morpheus, Mouse and Cypher, Tank and Dozer, Switch and Apoc, Neo and Trinity stood hand in hand, and slowly they stepped towards him. A smile brightened on his face, but faded as they walked on past. He called their names, they didn't stir, he stretched for a sleeve, and as he grasped it a pale face turned towards him. His eyes were dark and narrow, his skin pale, and he smiled that familiar smile. Edward gasped, and he wanted to cry as he realized who the man was that stood staring into him as the others melted away into the surface. He made to the clutch the figure close, but as his arms wrapped around him his form became a shroud of black smoke and his arms wrapped together around his shoulders. His legs grew weak and he slumped in his spotlight. He pulled his knees to his chest, curled into a ball and fell in a crying heap onto his side. Slowly, as tears trickled down his face, the light began to fade, until he was there in the darkness.

He flew awake, the whole room about him was dark, except for that malfunctioning light, blinking. Tears were forming in his eyes, he wiped them away.

_I've been here a while now, I've made friends with the crew. I have a purpose, and Morpheus has almost become like a father to me, and yet…why do I still feel so alone…? _

The tears fell thicker down his face and he wept into his pillow, hoping to muffle the sounds.

_Al, Winry, Granny Pinako… Mustang. Are you still thinking of me…? _

Author's note:

This was named for Darkness by Disturbed from the album Believe. I think this song seemed to suit the chapter because it seemed to reflect the loneliness that Edward was feeling especially for the last section. It's this loneliness that drives me, I've found, and the concept of being alone and in that surrounding darkness with no knowledge of where you are and who will rescue you interested me.

Hopefully the Oracle was to everyone's liking, she was a little hard to do, but I think I got the hang of it somewhere because I got little complaints from my betas. It was good fun in any case to write this. Oh, as a note, I'm going to start giving the chapter titles names to do with songs. Most of them will be from Avenged Sevenfold, Paramore and 30 Seconds to Mars. If you like, you can listen to the song while you read the chapter it corresponds to. But that's up to you.

Sorry for the lateness of this chapter, once again for Chapter 5. At the moment it's been NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month, it apparently lasts all November and beta-readers are encouraged not to edit other works at this time, if you're confused then don't worry, so am I), and so I've had to fit around the schedule of my Beta-reader, which I don't mind doing since it gives me a chance to think about what I'm going to write for my next chapters, but as a consequence it slows the updates. But, don't think I'm slowly giving up on this fiction, far from it. I'm actually already planning the plot of chapter 9 (actually I have a vague idea of what's going to happen and I've dropped in hints so that you can go oh wow when I get to a twist and turn, but the problem is actually writing the chapter). As many of you will know, how I write a chapter will result in what happens in the next chapter (well duh), but also whether you carry on reading and what effect it has on the plot as a whole. Of course there is the risk that the wrong effect is purveyed, and the whole thing ends up going tits up, but hopefully my special little Beta-reader will help me there.

Do you see the endeavour that I go through to give you guys a good chapter and fiction? I put a lot of work into each one (well, as much as I can allow depending on how I feel about the fiction in the first place), but after three years on this site, you can bet I know what I'm talking about when it comes down to it (plus you would not believe how many _How to write… _books I've read, see I do take it seriously, and I hope you guys acknowledge that).

Anyway, thank you once again to Nyghthawk for your beta-ing skills and for my school library for letting me type up these chapters. They must be sick of me by now. Not really, they like me still. –phew-


	7. So Far Away

He glanced up from his desk absent-mindedly to find the room filled with an eerie quiet. He had noticed it before, but now he knew why. He was the only one there. He looked back down at his paperwork and sighed roughly, leaning back in his chair. The blank white ceiling stared back at him.

_Should I go down to the mess hall? _

He sat back up proper and let his fingers skitter for the draw handle. He pulled it open and pulled out the old photograph, and stared into it.

A smile lit up on his lips, embracing the memory. He glanced at a teenager with short black hair and a proud smile on his face. By his side, a shorter blonde-haired girl was beaming, her head rested upon his shoulder with an arm around his waist. In his arms, lay a little bundle, wrapped in white cloth and sleeping soundly.

"Is that a picture of you?"

He slammed the picture to the table and found 2nd Lieutenant Havoc stood behind him.

"W-What are _you _doing?" He found it hard to eradicate the blush coming up on his cheeks.

"I've just come back from the mess hall. Weren't you hungry, Colonel?"

"Me? No, I've got to finish this work. Hawkeye won't let me live if I slack off." He sighed, picking his pen back up.

"Is this a picture of you?" Without permission Havoc picked it up from the desk to peruse its surface.

"Who's the girl with you?"

"She's a childhood friend. I see her around from time to time." Roy smiled memorably.

"Kid's cute. Is that your brother?"

"Yes, Daniel. He should be 14 now if I remember right."

"I didn't know you had a little brother, sir."

"I know you don't, he lives with his mom." Roy frowned and quickly snatched the picture out of Havoc's grasp and dropped it back in its draw. "Why the sudden interrogation?"

"No interrogation, just being nosy." Havoc grinned.

"The last I heard, my past was none of your business."

"I know sir, but the picture looked cute and- "

"Why did you feel the need to _make _it your business?" Roy scowled irritably.

"I didn't; I just-."

"Then go and be nosy somewhere else, I'm in no mood to entertain you." His pen scratched quickly across the page.

"What's got _your _mane in a knot?"

Roy tried to hold his angered stance, but put down his pen and sighed heavily, circling the bridge of his nose.

"I-I'm sorry, it's just, with all that's been going on lately, with Edward going missing, and then Al; it's kind of put me on edge."

"I know the funeral was only a month ago, but, it just doesn't seem right." Havoc leaned against the wall. "I'm going to the cemetery soon. Do you want to come with?"

"Not today." He continued to work. "Maybe some other time - when Hawkeye lets me go."

"I see," Havoc sighed.

"Why don't you ask Breda, or Fuery; he'll go with you."

"Yeah, maybe I will." He stood up from the wall and made for the door. "I'll see you later, Colonel."

As soon as he was sure Havoc was gone, he picked the photo up from in the draw and gazed at it once again. A finger stroked the face of the little boy in the picture, and he sighed sadly. _Daniel…_

The door to the office opened again, and Lieutenant Hawkeye glanced in from behind it.

"Sir? How's the work coming along?"

"It's almost done." He answered, looking up to find her lending a smile.

She stepped in proper and he found two bunches of flowers laden in her arms.

"I'm going to visit Al; you're welcome to come along."

He placed the pen down on the desk, placed the photo back beneath the papers in his desk, stood up and pulled the coat from the back of his chair onto his arms.

"I'll join you."

They left Headquarters together, and soon the cemetery came into view. As they found the grave marker, they found a peace lily lying before it and another on an empty plot at its side.

"Havoc must have come here earlier." Roy mused.

"Do you think he put this one down as well?" She picked up the peace lily at the empty plot and laid it before the grave marker with the other. Riza placed her bouquet down at the grave marker, and not a word was spoken as they stood before it. Roy scanned the letters of the gravestone as he had done the day of the funeral.

_Alphonse Josef Elric. 1900 – 1915. Dear son, loyal friend, belovéd brother. _He could remember being the one chosen to make the decisions for the engraving on the headstone, and choosing_ belovéd brother _as a testament to Edward. Edward would've have chosen them if he was here, wouldn't he?

"I heard some of the Top Brass talking in the mess hall." Hawkeye began, breaking that prevailing silence. "They're thinking of dropping the missing person's case on Edward."

His fists tightened, but he tried to restrain himself. _Not in front of Al's grave._

"On what grounds?" He produced through clenched teeth.

"There has been an on-going investigation throughout Amestris, but they're not turning up anything. They're ready to pronounce him dead."

"That's absurd! Ed knows how to take care of himself; if he was dead, we would've found him with Al! He could've just fled the country!"

"Then he would be Xing, Creta, Drachma or Aerugo's problem. I heard them saying that they were going to notify other countries, but otherwise, the case is a lost cause."

"It's not a lost cause! It's hardly been a month and they're already giving up hope? What's wrong with this country?" He grasped her jacket, pulling her close with a threatening glare.

"Please, sir, calm down." She patted his back soothingly. "Don't shoot the messenger."

"You're right, I'm sorry." He let her go and motioned her to stop, and her hands returned to her sides.

"I wonder if Edward is even aware that his brother's gone."

"I'm sure he is; this is Edward we're talking about."

"Then you think he ran away from bereavement?" Hawkeye gazed up at him.

"No, that doesn't sound like him. He'd keep on fighting, I'm sure of it." He sighed. "It's a shame there weren't any eye witnesses, we would've had this case solved by now." He gazed down at the grave one more time before he felt a hand clutch his softly.

"Let's take these to him. He'd want to see us like this." Her beaming smile warmed him, and he smiled knowingly, clutching his front as he felt the familiar twist.

"Yeah." They made one last bow to the young grave, and stepped on in search of a younger one. Hand in hand they made that slow familiar march, his eyes staring down at his feet as they suffered the desolate journey.

-/\*_;)(-

Edward sat down with his bowl of breakfast in front of him, but twisted the spoon about in the glop in an unappetising manner. He could only see those bodies twisting in their undying embrace, and the imagery put him off his meal. He pushed the dish away in disgust.

'What's up, Ed? You're looking pretty pale there.'

He gazed up at Mouse, and sighed forlornly.

"I-it's nothing, really."

'You sure?'

"Yeah."

'Well, if you feel like talking you know where I am.' The boy spooned in a mouthful, and hummed approvingly.

Steps sounded from the corridor, and he blushed as Neo and Trinity stepped into the room hand in hand. His eyes quickly fell to his bowl, and he forced himself to spoon a little into his mouth. He swallowed roughly and peered up at the couple. Their naked, slick bodies were only in his mind and as Neo's eyes met his they fell back to the bowl. The blush burned with a more furious intensity, he didn't have to see it; he could feel it. He glanced up from the corner of his eyes, and Trinity met them with an air of confusion. His eyes fell back to his bowl.

'You look guilty, what's wrong.' Trinity stated, looking him full in the face. Edward glanced into them, but glanced quickly aside.

"No, nothing's wrong."

'What have you done?' Neo taunted.

"I haven't done anything!" He stated in his bowl.

'You sure?'

"Damn sure!"

Trinity sighed, took up her bowl and whispered in Neo's ear. She made for the door in her emotionless jaunt that evaded others from knowing her purposes. Neo followed soon after, lending Edward a narrow glance.

'Are you sure nothing's wrong?' Tank frowned. 'You couldn't even look them in the eye.'

Edward looked up at the others, and finally sighed. "Ok, don't tell them but… After I left the top deck, I-I… saw them having sex…" He looked down in his bowl, looking utterly ashamed.

'…It's about time!' Mouse chortled.

"W-What?" Edward glared up at him, dumbfounded.

'It's a known rule among the crew of this ship,' Switch added, 'that once you've walked in on Neo and Trinity having sex, you're considered a full member of the Nebuchadnezzar.'

"How'd you figure that?"

'Because it was inevitable that it was going to happen. It's a joke we have to keep up morale.'

Edward leaned in to her, "S-So, even _Morpheus _has seen them both, you know…" he whispered.

'Twice.' She affirmed. Edward's eyes widened and he sat back in his seat.

"Then what about Neo and Trinity? Obviously they can't see each other…"

'True, but they see each other naked all the time. They're full members through default.' Switch took another spoonful of glop and swallowed as she calculated the facts assuredly for herself.

Edward sighed, laughing to himself finally. "Thanks, that's taken a load off my mind." He took one last large spoonful and took the dish over to the side. Morpheus walked in and spied the happy grin that Edward couldn't disguise.

'You're in a good mood today.' Morpheus smiled.

"I just became a full member!" Edward grinned, and he left the room, humming to himself cheerily.

-/\*_;)(-

Edward laid back into his bed covers, looking up at the ceiling, grinning as he had been before. But soon the smile wore away its welcome and he could feel the warmth of tears in his eyes. He wiped them away, but not without a choked back squeak. More tears came dually, and he clutched his hand to his eyes, crying softly. He could feel the soft embers of isolation creeping up and roaring up in his ear, so much so that he was deaf to the arrival of a man at his door.

'Edward?'

He looked up quickly to the form and found Neo stood there with arms akimbo.

"I-I wasn't crying." Edward sniffed, wiping them away.

'And neither does Zion.' Neo snorted and sat down beside Edward. 'You saw me and Trinity last night didn't you?'

"I-I- how did you-?"

'Morpheus told me.'

"H-He did?" He deflated a little, feeling betrayed.

'That and the guilt were all over you. It was the same when Mouse walked in on us.' Neo smiled reassuringly.

"So you don't mind?" He perked up a little.

'Everyone's seen us.' Neo stated.

"Good, well, I'm sorry anyway."

'Consider yourself forgiven.'

A smile perked up on his lips. "Besides from acting like an asshole, you're an ok guy."

'Thanks, I guess,' His eyebrows quirked. 'But don't get any wrong ideas, ok? You should know fully well I belong to someone else.'

"Well, no offence to Trinity, but I wouldn't consider you much of a catch anyway." He quipped, and sighed finally, "Do you think we can put the silly arguments aside for once? It's getting pretty old."

'That's not a bad idea; Morpheus is always telling us to get along.'

"Yeah, I thought he would blow his top when we were in the Matrix." Edward laughed, and offered his hand. "Truce?" Neo inspected it, but grasped his hand with a single shake.

'Yeah, truce.' He let it go and got up from the bed. 'So, are you ok now?'

"Me? Yeah, I-I'm fine."

'So you were crying because of last night?'

"Y-Yeah, that's all it was."

'I'll see you later then.' Neo shut the door behind, and Edward fell back into his sheets once again.

_That wasn't what it was. _

Suddenly an intruder came in, sat himself down on the bed with sheets of paper and grinned down.

'Hello!' Mouse chirped.

"Oh, it's you." Edward scowled. "What's up with you? You look like the holidays just came all at once." He sat up as he addressed him.

'Well, it came to me that you don't have a nickname like everyone else, so I thought that I'd take it upon myself to give some suggestions for you, you know, since you hadn't addressed the problem yourself.' He flicked through the sheets contemplatively.

"And when was this? This morning?"

'Yep.'

"I've already had this over with the Oracle, but honestly I can do it myself and in my own time." He frowned.

'Well, just here me out for a second.' He picked out a sheet from the others and held it up. 'How about "Golden Boy"?'

"Cute, but no. It sounds self-centred, so I'm not taking it."

'And yet you sound self-centred when you say so.'

"I'm not even interested in this, neither am I in the mood."

'Yes you are; you're caring enough to shoot them down.'

"Will you just- fine, maybe I _am _a little interested, but stop giving me stupid ones, ok?"

'Nothing stupid, eh? Ok…' He flipped through the sheets, chucking the rejects over his shoulder and then holding up another. 'Brainiac!'

"That's just as stupid."

'Really? Well, I just thought, since you're meant to be so smart and all that this would be a good one.'

"Do _you _see you calling me this?"

'…I get it. It's stupid.' He screwed it up and threw it over his shoulder with the rest of them.

_Took you long enough._

With each given name, Edward shot it down frankly and ruthlessly. Each one was subject to a short-life and a screwed up death until none had prevailed the onslaught. To each of Mouse's suggestions, it was a suicide mission, proven by their _kamikaze _like crash to the floor.

"No, no and no." Edward sighed and fell back into his sheets once again. "This is getting tiresome. Can you bother me about this again at a later date, oh, let's say never?"

'But don't you want a nickname?' Mouse pouted.

"I _have _a nickname. It's Ed and I've used it all my life. It's fine as it is and it's not going."

'But it doesn't compare to the coolness of Neo and Trinity!'

"Neither does Mouse!"

'But's that's what _everyone _calls me! I'm not going to change it just because one guy wants me to!'

"Exactly _my _point."

Mouse struggled to hold up another point, until he came up with another.

'Well, I'm insignificant! You're role on this ship is much more important than mine! Y-You're like- the One!'

"There you go, belittling yourself. Will you stop it?"

'You went to the Oracle right? What did she say to you? Tell me, and then we'll see how insignificant I am in comparison. We want to give you a name, don't we?' Mouse stared hard at him, but finally Edward rolled his eyes.

"I haven't even told Morpheus yet, what makes you think I'll tell you?"

'Because no one else knows, and you're lonely.' A smile perked up on his lips. 'You need a friend.' He poked his nose teasingly, and Edward wrinkled his nose to it. He thought about it for moments longer, and sighed finally, relenting.

"The Oracle told me, that my goal was to help Neo. I would have to act as a search engine and a collector of information for Neo's goal."

'See, now that wasn't so hard was it. You _do _need a friend.'

Edward kicked him hard in the shin. "Let me make myself clear. I _don't _need a friend."

'Fine, I know when I'm not wanted.' He sighed sadly. He got himself up off the bed to make for the door, but then quickly came jumping back on the bed. 'But let me make one last suggestion for your name!'

"Fine, but _one _suggestion, if it's not a good one, I'll throw you out."

'What, with that one puny arm?' Mouse laughed. Edward kicked him again.

"Watch it." He scowled.

Mouse picked up an unscrewed up sheet from off the floor, and thought for a second.

'What's your last name?' Mouse asked.

"I thought you guys already knew."

'Well, what is it?'

"It's Elric."

'How do you spell that? I mean, is there a K in there, or…?'

"You idiot. E – L – R – I – C. No K, that's it."

'That's pretty short; I can't really do much with those letters.'

"Are you trying to make an anagram out of it?"

'You'll see.' Mouse grinned, and a sense of dread sat heavy in Edward's stomach. With his pencil, Mouse scribbled down the letters in a circle arrangement. He sat there thinking for a while, but finally, a smiled widely from a new found idea and linked them up, writing the final result at the bottom. 'Ta-dah!' Mouse declared brightly. He handed it over to Edward, who sat up with faint interest. 'What do you think?'

"I like it." That same smile enveloped his lips. "I like it a lot! This could work!"

'So, it was a good suggestion?' Mouse beamed.

Edward stood up from his bed and walked for the door.

"Thanks Mouse, I owe you one."

He made for the top deck, climbing up the ladder, and finding Morpheus, thrust the sheet into his hand, while the older man stood there looking bemused.

'What's this?'

"All you guys have nicknames, so I'm going to need one too. The Oracle has left it up to me to decide."

Morpheus read it aloud. 'It's good. Did you come up with this yourself?'

"Mouse helped me out."

'Mouse did? I'm sure you two will be good friends.' He folded up the sheet of paper and pocketed it. 'But why didn't you stick with the alias you used back in the Beta-Matrix?'

"As long as I'm helping you here, my existence in that world no longer matters, and once I find Al, it won't matter even then. From now on, I know what I have to do. I'm Clier."

-/\*_;)(-

She watched from the edge of the cemetery with gritted teeth as the military couple left the grave hand in hand, slowly the connection faded and their hands fell to their sides as they made that slow inevitable march to the sombre exit. Just like all the visitors she had seen enter the place, they were mulling over their losses. Wondering how they could carry on or trying to imagine how their lives were before the life was lost.

She cursed under her breath as she backed into the shadows of the woods that surrounded the cemetery.

_One sacrifice is gone, definitely gone; the shrimp is missing, one is here and another is within range, but the last one is untraceable. Military search parties haven't pulled up anything. What have those useless bastards been doing all this time? _

She sunk into the shadows, lost from all view.

-/\*_;)(-

"What's the big idea, Wrath?" Envy screamed as he came into the concrete clearing from the underground tunnels. The larger form turned towards him from his humble stance, his hands behind his back.

"I don't know what you mean." Wrath glared deeply into the smaller figure's purple irises.

"I've just heard one of your dogs say the military's going to drop the search on Edward! He's an important sacrifice and you're just going to let that piece go? Or did you forget about the plan?" He seethed.

"Of course I didn't forget. It's been a month, Envy and since he's not turned up, there's no point in running down all of the Military's energy at the expenditure of one little runt. He may be important, but I am still the leader of this country. If I were to make such a big deal over one little pup, then someone's going to start asking questions. And we can't have that now, can we?"

Envy pouted with an undeniable disgust. "Isn't he one of the Military's most prized possessions or something? Maybe you _should _make a big deal of it." He sat down on one of many cables that strewn across the floor like an intricate web.

"Maybe, but I've had headquarters across the country looking for him. If he's not here then he'll be in another country by now. Haven't you ever heard of small scale? No, of course not, you were always one to do things in _large _doses, weren't you?" A vein quirked in his temple, and the anger shook through him as he stood up from his seat.

"**You want to say that again, huh? You chose the wrong Homunculus to fuck with, Wrath…**"

"**STOP!**" The command thrummed through the whole room. Envy forced himself to bottle the rage. Both of them turned to the large throne-like stone chair that was positioned before them. Though his back was turned, though his malevolent glare pulsated from the corner of his eye, they shrunk into obedience. The form shut his book and placed it in his lap. "You know it hurts your father to see you fight amongst yourselves; now, what news from above."

Envy and Wrath glanced at each other, before finally Envy stepped forward. "The Elric Brothers are incapacitated at the moment. The younger brother is dead and the elder is still missing."

"So, you're telling me that we've lost two of our sacrifices, is that correct?"

Envy could feel himself shrinking into the floor, or rather, he wished to. "Y-Yes." A smirk grew on his lips, "And Wrath wants to stop looking for the elder brother!"

"I know. Wherever Edward Elric is, he will still feel a tie to this place. He'll come back. It is inevitable. You are right, Wrath, to lower the search to a smaller scale. That is all." He dismissed them both, and they bowed respectfully, before retreating from their master's side.

-/\*_;)(-

Slowly, Edward stepped up the ladder to the same low glow on the deck, following it like a moth to the flame. He sat down in a seat next to Tank as he had done so the night before and sighed heavily.

'Hey Clier, can't sleep again?' Tank smiled as he worked.

"Morpheus told you about that?" Edward grinned a little, recognizing the new name.

'Of course, it sounds good for you, but I still prefer to call you Ed.'

"True, it does roll off the tongue better."

'So how come the name change?'

"Mouse wouldn't stop nagging me about it."

'How long for, a week?'

"Nah, hardly an hour."

'That bad, huh?'

"You could say that." Edward yawned exhaustedly.

'You sound tired, how about getting some sleep?'

"Don't have it in me. Besides, I've got to start taking this role more seriously. I need to start collecting information in order for me to help Neo."

'Something else the Oracle told you?'

"Yup." He peered at the screen of raining code. "Where are you now?"

'Xing still; now that I can read the documents, I can find out a lot more of its history including the history of Xerxes and Amestris.'

"Sounds fun filled beyond belief."

'It's not like I'm doing this out of free will.'

"But you're doing it anyway; you're such a good boy. Mummy must be so proud."

'Thanks, I guess.' Tank asked, 'Do you think you could help me with studying Xing?'

"Never been there, don't plan too and I know nothing."

'So you're useless.'

"Yep." Edward grinned.

After a while, Tank sighed, and stopped typing to stretch his arms. "What's up?"

'I've come across another language.' He scowled.

"Can you translate it?"

'Nope, it looks harder for the system to decipher. It could take a lot longer to translate.'

"So you're stumped."

'Yes.' Tank sighed heavily, yawning a little. He didn't know what to do. It showed as he stared blankly at the screen.

"You can't do anything can you?"

'Not as such, no.'

"Ah, nothing like procrastination."

Tank thought for a moment. 'I know what we could do.'

"We?"

'Do you remember the first time you went in the Construct, and you learned how to speak English?'

"How could I forget?"

'Well, if I plug you in, I could start streaming lots of information into you like I did before and you'll never forget it.' Tank smiled. 'Go on; sit in one of the seats.' Edward got up and pulled himself into one of the recliners and put his head back. Tank followed him and grasping the plug pushed it into the hole in the back of Edward's head. But his eyes were open; he was still in the same room, as far as he could tell.

"I'm not going into the Construct?"

'You don't need to go into the Construct or the Matrix each time you want to learn something new, but you're still connected to it. It's the safest way of using the Matrix without being at risk from the agents.' Tank sat back down in his seat and loaded up the files of information from the Matrix. 'So, what do you want to learn about first? Maps, places, inventions, history – we've got the works.'

"Better start me at A."

'Oh, Alphabetical I see. Ok then, tonight you shall learn everything you need to know about…Aardvarks!'

"Lucky me." He said sarcastically. "Is all this information going to be this pointless?"

'I don't know, but it may come in handy one day.'

"Of course, because a little titbit about Aardvarks may one day save mine or Neo's life, yeah I bet."

'Just give it a try.' He tapped on his keyboard. 'Ok, loading it up.'

Edward shut his eyes and shook from the wave of information. His eyes shot open suddenly, and he took deep breaths. 'Well?'

"I have just pointlessly wasted a few minutes of my life to learn about a stupid mammal from Africa that lives in the south of the Sahara Desert."

'You learn something new everyday.' He tapped again, 'Next up we have…the Aardwolf.'

"Err…someone get me an aardgun and I can shoot myself in the aardhead, please?"

'I get it, pointless.' Tank sighed. 'Loading it up.'

-/\*_;)(-

'How's he doing?' Morpheus smiled, watching from Tank's shoulder. Hours had passed since Edward had been plugged up.

'This kid is crazy.' Tank sat bewildered. 'He's learnt about every single animal breed I could find and he's already learning about the Arts and Literature.'

'3-D motion picture processes, our little prodigy is absorbing culture.' He patted Tank's shoulder appreciatively, 'Unplug him after this, he needs his rest.'

'Yes sir.' Morpheus left the deck and Edward looked up at Tank after a bout of information.

"Is he gone?"

'Yeah, he's gone.' Tank sighed and got up from his seat, making to pull out the plug.

"Wait," Edward grasped Tank's hand before he could pull it out. "Can I ask you something first?"

'What is it?' Tank frowned tiredly.

"I haven't told anyone this, but…I miss the Beta-Matrix, my world. I want to visit it, at least once."

Tank studied him, hoping to find some form of trickery that might impede him from obeying Edward's wishes. 'No,' He said finally, 'Morpheus has already told me to unplug you.'

"Come on, Tank. You know what it's like to be away from your city in a long time. You've not seen Zion in…how long?"

'A couple of years.'

"Exactly, and it must feel lonely not seeing your family in all that time. Surely you understand where I'm coming from, right?"

Tank studied him once again, 'No! I mean, yes, but Morpheus's word is final. He's the Captain on this ship, not you.'

"I know Morpheus must be thinking of my well-being, but he's not thinking of _all _the aspects, you know? And besides, Morpheus said I could look for my brother in my spare time, right? This is technically spare time."

Tank stared into his eyes, he didn't want to relent. "Please?"

'Fine! But you've only got one hour! And you're taking a cell phone with you!'

"Done!" Edward agreed and he laid back into his seat expectantly.

Tank slumped back into his seat and tapped on his keyboard, Edward shut his eyes, a smiling pricking up on his lips.

_Morpheus is going to kill me for this. _Tank thought with a pang of fear and dread not sitting right in his stomach.

Edward embraced the white world around him, and braced himself for the cold night air that would soon smack him in the face.

Author's note: This chapter is called So Far Away by Avenged sevenfold from the album Nightmare. This one seemed quite a nice song to be used here, and suitable because it seemed to elaborate on Roy's feelings, and so seems to be from his point of view. It seems to show how he's missing a lot of the people that have gone missing in his life, such as Hughes and another, and more recently, Edward and Alphonse. It can be seen from Edward's point of view as it shows his loneliness now that his missing the Beta-Matrix and the people in it is becoming more apparent. The lyrics are quite beautiful. This is definitely one to listen to, it's one of those romantic and slow ones by Avenged Sevenfold that you've just got to love, such as Seize The Day from the album City of Evil.

Ok, now I know that some of you who have read my other, earlier stories would know perfectly well that I have the gall to give Edward the middle name Victor, just because his English voice actor (or should I say Texan) is Vic Mignogna. So why, when I know that Aaron or Maxey won't fit, would you have the gall to choose a name like Josef, I hear you ask. Well, it's simple. Recently I took a quiz on Facebook to find out what my first baby name would be. I did it for a laugh, and I don't usually go on it a lot anyway, so why the hell shouldn't I do a quiz? Anyway, the name I got was Josef, in that spelling too and I decided, because I couldn't find anything else I would stick it in there, for lack of a better name, and for the fact that I have no interest of naming any son of mine that name. It's not one I personally like.

Someone's going to be confused about where I got the subject names for what Edward learns while plugged up to the Matrix. To answer you're questions, no I'm not using Wikipedia, particularly because it's not alphabetical. Yes, I am using Encyclopaedia Britannica.

Thanks for reading this far though, I feel like it's all starting to kick off, and without bragging, this chapter is feeling extra specially smart! I'm sure a lot of you will have a lot of questions for me. Such as, who's Daniel? Is the girl a stupid OC and self-insert that I couldn't resist? The answers, my friends, are I'm not telling and all will become clear! I made it vague for a reason. Basically so that in later chapters you don't start shouting at me because some big twist just came out of nowhere and without precedent. That's not how I roll.

Hope you enjoyed!

Ophelia Davis


	8. Breathe

Author's note: This Chapter is dedicated to Nyghthawk, for all of her hard work. See the author's note below for the full messages.

Disclaimer: because it's about time to renew it. I do not own any of the work portrayed in here by Hiromu Arakawa, Wachowski brothers and Ghost in the shell, which inspired the Matrix itself. I only own the unique twist of the two plots together.

-/\*_;)(-

He stood in a red phone box, looking out into the night. Fearlessly, he stepped out of it. A cold breeze blew against his face, howling in his ears and making his eyes water. He folded his arms against it, and shivered as he began to stroll through a street, following the guidance of the orange cordial lights from the lamps and the windows. He'd forgotten how cold it was at night, or that the wind still existed in some far off place where you needed a plug in your head just to get to. He glanced about the street, letting himself become familiar with old surroundings.

_Shop signs, I must be close to the city centre._

Something rang close by and he jolted in alarm. He looked around cautiously for it, and quickly stepped back into the booth, talking into the receiver. Nothing, the ringing wasn't coming from there. He looked around still, until he realised the vibration coming from the seat of his trouser pocket. He wrestled it out of his tight pants and pressed the device to his ear, shouting into it. The ringing continued to blare loudly.

_Shit! What do I do? What do I do? _

He threw it across the street and the ringing stopped. He breathed a sigh of relief. Suddenly, the ringing came from behind him, from inside the booth. He picked up the receiver.

_'Edward, I realise now that you don't know how to use a cell phone, but you could've asked before you left.'_

"Oh, hey Tank. How are you doing that?"

_'Listen to me, Ed. Let the phone hang, go across the street and get the cell phone back, then come back here and pick up the receiver and listen for my instructions.'_

"Got it." Edward hung up the phone and ran for the cell phone across the street. As he ran back, a car came hurtling down the road towards him. He dodged it quickly and jumped back into the booth. He picked the receiver back up. "Hello?" Nothing.

_Shit, so that's what he meant. _

He hung it back up, and the phone rang. He picked it up again to answer.

_'Edward, I said let it hang, not hang it up!'_

"I'm sorry, I just realised what you meant." Edward circled the bridge of his nose with his fingers, knowing that he'd gotten it wrong. "Now, how do I use this cell phone?"

_'Right, when I ring you, you press the top right button.'_

"How will I know if I've pressed the right button?"

_'Edward, I know you're smart and all, but this is bordering stupidity. You'll know if you've pressed the right one when I start talking to you.'_

"Well, duh, I know that. I meant which button is the right one? There's a lot of them! Tank? Hello?" All he could hear was the sound of something banging against something.

_'…Sorry, I'm back. It's the button with the picture of the green phone on it.'_

"You mean the one with the green phone handle?" Edward studied the cell phone in his hand using the light of the windows.

_'Edward, are you trying to make a statement, or is it to compensate for the thing between your ears?'_

"What thing?"

_'No-thing!' _Edward heard a heavy sigh, _'But, yes, that's the button you press when it rings, now you better hurry up, you haven't got a lot of time left.'_

"And whose fault is that?"Edward groaned.

_'Just go! You asked for this, didn't you?'_

"Fine, I'm hanging up now."

_'Ed! Before you go, make sure you're careful of Agents. You know what they are, right?'_

"Of course I do, I'm not stupid." He hung it up. Leaving the booth, he folded his arms against the cold and glanced up at each shop sign.

"_Carlton's Candy Store." I must be in Central. Now, what street is this again?_

Something rang in his pocket, and wrestling out the wedge, he pressed the button and answered.

"Hello?"

_'Good, just had to test you. Now you're near the centre of Central in the shopping district.'_

"I've just realised that myself."

_'Not as dumb as I thought. Then you should know that there are some flats on the other side of the street to your right and that Central State Headquarters is down the street to your left.'_

"Of course I know that. I've been down this street lot of times with Al."

_'It might be an idea to try the headquarters if you're looking for Al. I'm sure that's where you two were last time.'_

"Or maybe not, Al could be anywhere by now. He'll be looking for me too, you know?"

_'Well, you know your brother better then I do, so you look where you please. Just stay out of strange places, look both ways before you cross the street and if you see a row of skimpily stressed girls standing on the street then you've hit the red-light district. Best stay away from there.'_

"Gotcha."

_'And Ed? Be back for dinner.' _Edward hung up and threw the cell phone once more across the street. Walking towards it he picked it up, muttering Amestrian curses under his breath. He studied the cell phone, and as it rung, he hung up once again.

"Strong little bastard, aren't you?" He wedged the cell phone back into his pocket and made to turn left.

The street was too small for shops and the walkway was narrow. Edward rolled his eyes and sighed. "Stupid Tank, this is an alleyway, not a street." Peering for the horizon, he found the tall structure of the State Military headquarters just in the distance behind the obstacle of buildings and illuminated by its surrounding ominous lights. It stood like a castle surrounded on all sides by safeguarding walls.

_Al must be there somewhere. But I can't search through all of that in one hour. And it'll take me around 15 minutes just to get inside. I've already used up a lot of time. Stupid Tank and his stupid cell phone!_

Edward stepped further into the shadows of the alleyway, walking quickly for the street lights on the other side with anxiety burning in his gut. A whimper rose from the throat of something before him. He stopped abruptly. "Hello?" it breathed rapidly; he could hear wet drip slowly to the ground. He stepped cautiously closer. He felt a lump underfoot, it yelped suddenly, whimpering and licking. He stepped back and looked to the ground for the creature he had stepped on. The creature growled, it padded towards him, Edward stepped further back out of the alleyway, and cold sweat bristled down the back of his neck. "E-Easy boy." It yapped at his ankles and Edward fell back into the street.

The creature stepped out from the alley, growling low and with menace. Black fur bristled up its neck and all hair stood on end. Its head balanced low to the ground; teeth were bared and slobber dripped.

A large, black dog stood before him. Edward sat up, sweat dripping down his forehead.

_Shit! I don't have time for this!_

It leaped forward for him, jaws open to attack.

_SHIT!_

He kicked forward and the dog fell back. He turned on his heel and ran the other way towards rows of residential apartments. Most of the windows were black, but some illuminated light. One apartment harboured a tree growing up the front of one, and he leaped for it. He climbed quickly up to its peak, though the dog tried to jump for his ankles. As Edward climbed for a secure branch, the cell phone fell out of his pocket and dropped into the jaws of the dog. Electricity zapped and burnt at the dog's mouth, and it dropped it, whimpering. It backed away from the tree, limping from its injured paw.

Edward breathed a sigh of relief; the dog was gone for now, but he'd lost the cell phone with it.

He rested his head against hard brick, catching his breath. The window beside him was lit, and as he heard noises from within, he gasped and tucked himself away from view. Finally he caught his breath and wondered who was inside, unable to resist a glimpse.

He turned towards the window, and peeked in from the corner of his eye. A man sat on his sofa, a plate with a sandwich at his side and a newspaper in his lap. Through a mess of black hair, the man's dark narrow eyes wandered for his sandwich. He took a bite out of it, but glanced for the window. Edward gasped and tucked himself away again. He waited for a minute or two, and when he looked back, the man had unfurled his newspaper and was reading it with faint interest.

_Isn't that Roy? He really does only own a sofa. _ Edward grinned, from his seat in the tree.

Edward studied him carefully. He had untidy black hair, a pale face and narrow dark eyes. He wore his white work shirt loose out of his blue cotton-tweed trousers and white socks. He must've dumped the boots off somewhere else.

Roy was thin, that was a fact Edward couldn't deny, but not weedy, that went without saying. Broad shoulders from military training were a common feature among the soldiers of any military unit you could come across, but not all were without flab. Heck, you could tell that just by looking at Breda; but Roy, now he was a man without flab. And thank god too, because if he were fat, then goodness knows what would happen if… A blush burned brightly on his cheeks until his face turned red. He turned away quickly.

_Ok, Ed. Relax, calm down. This is nothing to get excited about! Your mind has to stay on the mission! What was that again…? You idiot, you forgot about your own little brother you heartless bastard! For goodness sake, yes, he's cute, get over it! Now, you're going to look back in that window, and you're just going to see a normal guy lazing about on his sofa eating a ham sandwich like a slob, what's so hot about that? And then, you're going to get back to the phone booth, wait for Tank to get you out of there and then you can go on without that sack-full-of- crap bastard on his sofa. Ok? Good, now, turn!_

Edward turned back to peer into the window. Roy had put down his newspaper and was reaching over for the radio on the coffee table side.

_Ok, face, cute, but the bastard needs a shave. Body, thin, hint of muscle? Ha, he's stained his shirt, and he's got crumbs on his belly, what a slob! Legs, nice and thin, but strong? Maybe that's a little picky. But, what's above those…? _His eyes had zeroed in, and blood began to trickle down from his nose. He gasped and hid as Roy looked up at the window curiously.

_For fuck's sake Ed, you really are a pervert! _He smushed his sleeve against his nose to catch the blood. He held the pressure there for minutes afterwards, waiting for the blood to dry up.

-/\*_;)(-

Sirens buzzed throughout the ship, and on every floor red lights flashed, and an alarm shrieked up and down the halls.

'Shit!' Tank cursed.

Footsteps clambered up the ladder to the top deck.

'What's going on?' Apoc shouted over the siren.

'Check the radar!' Tank called, just when footsteps echoed from the cockpit and Morpheus came into the top deck.

'We've got machines in the vicinity!' He said, and all rushed for the cockpit in alarm.

'How many are there?' Trinity asked.

'Five, possibly more.' Morpheus answered.

'Do you think they're within our radius to use the EMP?' she asked.

'Not quite, but no longer, or we're in trouble.'

Large, metallic, twisting vessels came swarming towards them, too fast for them to respond.

'Shit!' Tank yelped.

'We'll have to use the EMP, now.' Morpheus reached for the button.

'We can't use it!' Tank shrieked, both from alarm and fear.

'What?'

'Edward's still in the Beta-Matrix! If we use it now it'll kill him!' He confessed. Behind him, electricity sparked as the sound of lasers hit the top of the ship.

'He's supposed to be in bed! I told you to unplug him when you were done!'

'He persuaded me, he twisted my arm! He wanted to go in, I couldn't convince him otherwise!'

'What the hell is he doing there?' He roared.

'He wanted to look for his brother!'

'He's going to get us killed over a personal crusade? That idiot!'

'Stand back from the window!' Switch screamed. They ducked and backed away as a pincer pierced the window of the cockpit, flailing madly for a head or throat.

'They should be dead by now!' Neo screamed.

'Get out of the cockpit! Now!' Morpheus called. They ran for the top deck.

'What's he doing?' Neo roared, 'I swear to god I'll unplug him right now!'

'Don't you dare! He's still important!' Morpheus ordered.

'You're going to let one of us die for that kid?'

'For Clier, yes.'

'Clier?' Neo stared incredulously.

'What's he doing?' Morpheus ordered once again.

'He's just peeking through a window!' Tank stared.

'I knew he was a pervert!' Trinity shrieked.

'Is he close to a phone booth?' Morpheus asked.

'Yes.' Tank answered.

'Get him out of there, now!'

-/\*_;)(-

Edward peeked back through the window, listening to the radio music that played mutedly from inside the room. Roy was still there on the sofa, reading his newspaper while the plate was abandoned still on the coffee table.

He sighed, smiling to himself as he watched. It didn't feel so dark anymore. The spotlight inside had grown bright until the whole room was light and visible. That narrow-eyed figure, Roy was smiling back down at him as he had done before. He was within reach, he was huggable, and he was forever solid.

His chest burned warmly, and butterflies fluttered in his stomach. The feeling was uneasy, but this was better than before. Definitely better.

_How can I go back? How can I leave all this behind? He's probably not interested, but right now, I'd rather this than the Nebuchadnezzar; than that burden that I have to bear. But I can't let Zion down. They'd never forgive me if I didn't go back. _

Suddenly, a scrambled ringing came from the base of the tree and those eyes wandered up from his newspaper. Edward tucked back and panic flared in his gut.

_Shit, you really are a tough bastard, aren't you? If I answer that now, then I'll have to go back. If I don't do something now, then I might never… _

The radio music continued to ring as he heard footsteps near closer to the window.

_Double shit!_

-/\*_;)(-

Roy pulled the window open and offered his head to the cold wind. He shivered as it nipped at his cheeks, and looked right, and then left. Nothing. The scrambled ringing was louder now, and he looked down. Something was flashing in the grass. His eyebrows knitted in confusion.

_What the hell…?_

He sighed, pulling his head back in and shutting the window. He picked up his plate and went for the kitchen.

_I'm not going to get any peace otherwise. _

-/\*_;)(-

Edward clambered back round from the other side of the tree among the branches, and breathed a sigh of relief as he resumed his seat. He peeked back into the window. He wasn't there.

_Right, this is now, or never. _

He clapped his hands and felt the thrill of alchemy that he'd missed in a month. He pressed his finger to the glass and it grew soft, allowing a finger indent as Edward pressed an auto mail finger into it. The glass was red hot; it glowed with each finger pressure.

_Backward letters or he can't read it…_

From beneath him, he heard the door click and the sound of footsteps treading through grass.

_Triple shit!_

-/\*_;)(-

Roy picked up the chewed up device and looked at it with confusion.

_What the hell is this thing? _

The scrambled ringing didn't cease.

_It sounds like an old phone, but… _

A shock hit his finger.

"_Ow_!" He found a green button, and curiously pressed it. The ringing stopped, but buzzing came from it. He put up to his ear, holding it at a distance. _"Hello?" _

'You'd better get your ass back here right now!' A foreign voice screamed through the device, in a language he felt was familiar.

_"Hello? Slow down, what are you saying?" _

'Crap!' The device fell silent, and a shock hit his finger again. He yelped and dropped it back in the grass.

_Is it some kind of communication device? _Grabbing a handkerchief from his pocket, he wrapped it around the device and handled it carefully as he walked back into the building and shut the door.

-/\*_;)(-

'Isn't that Edward's commanding officer?' Morpheus questioned.

'Damn, he's got the cell phone! We can't reach him!' Tank shouted. Electric sparks danced from behind them and the screech of metal breaking echoed through the deck along with metallic shrieks.

'They're coming through the roof!' Switch screamed.

'Everyone grab a lightning rifle!' Morpheus roared. 'What's Edward doing now?'

'There's- crap! He's still at the apartment!'

'Hang on,' Morpheus studied the monitor, 'Is that window glowing?'

'I don't think it's just glowing, it looks like a message.' Tank confirmed.

'Hold on, that's… Dammit! You idiot! Now you've done it! Get Edward out of there!'

-/\*_;)(-

_That's it! Please, let this work!_

Edward jumped down from the tree, and ran across to the sidewalk. He turned back, seeing the window still smouldering red where his finger had pressed the glass.

_I guess I'll see you soon. _

He ran towards the shopping district.

_If that was Tank ringing the cell phone, that must mean he wants me back. My hour must be up. _

-/\*_;)(-

'That's it!' Cypher roared, as he zapped the glowing red eye of a machine. 'I've had enough of this!' He ran behind the monitors for the seats and grasped the plug of Edward's head. 'Someone go for the EMP button, I'll pull the plug on the bastard!'

'NO!' Morpheus roared, 'He's still vital to us!'

'As if he is! We didn't need him until the Oracle _said _we needed him! He was useless to begin with!' Cypher twisted the plug halfway out of its socket threateningly.

'Stop it, Cypher! You can't just throw him away like that!' Trinity screamed.

'What do you care? A minute ago he was a pervert, right? No use for one of them!'

'He's still just a child!' She shrieked.

-/\*_;)(-

The phone booth rang from across the street.

_Yes, that's Tank! I'm here!_

He felt something twist in the back of his mind, almost suffocating. He grasped his head, his legs shaking. He fell to his knees, trying to breathe, his brain felt on fire.

_W-What is…this…What's- UGH – hap-ppening…?_

He crawled limply for the booth.

-/\*_;)(-

Tank watched the monitor, watching Edward suffocate slowly.

'Don't think I won't!' Cypher screamed, holding a lightning rifle up to them. They held their hands up in submission. 'I'll pull it out!'

'Stop it!' Tank screamed, 'You're killing him! He's suffocating, you bastard!'

'Then I'm only half way there! Come on, the next half's painless, I promise!' He laughed. 'He's a burden! If I don't do it, then we're all machine fodder!'

'You're actually enjoying this!' Trinity stared at him in disbelief.

'Or maybe _you'd _like to pull it out yourself! It's so liberating, don't you think? To give a pervert what he deserves!'

'Not like this!' She shrieked. 'Don't do it, Cypher!'

-/\*_:)(-

He struggled up on his feet, using the door handle as support. He opened it and fell limply into the booth, crashing into the phone's platform. The receiver fell from its hook and hung there seductively just out of reach. Edward lay on the floor, the receiver dangling above him. Tears ran down his cheeks, his lungs screamed for air and his head throbbed madly. He reached for the receiver, his arm felt as heavy as lead. It slumped back to the concrete.

_N-Not like this… Help me, Tank, Morpheus, Neo… _

-/\*_;)(-

'Look at the little dear! He's gone all blue!' Cypher laughed, twisting the plug further still.

'NO! That's it! You're out of the crew!' Morpheus roared, 'You're out of the Nebuchadnezzar!'

'Oh yeah? And who's going to throw me out, you? Ha! Not before the kid goes first!' Suddenly, a pincer pierced through the ceiling and grabbed his throat. It winched him up through the ceiling as he struggled and screamed. Blood rained down onto the seats.

'Get to Ed, now!' Morpheus ordered. Neo dodged past the monitors and grasped the plug.

Edward gasped for breath, trying against Neo's arm to gulp in life-sustaining air. Neo tugged out the plug.

'Go for the EMP!' Morpheus screamed.

'I've got it!' Apoc yelled. He ran for the cockpit, sliding through beneath the arms of the machines and past their lasers. His fist slammed the button, and the lights, the monitors, everything shut down. The machines collapsed against the ship's top, rocking it violently. They screamed, they grabbed for holds, Edward grasped onto Neo, who grabbed a seat. Slowly, the machines rolled further off the ceiling, the ship toppled onto its side. They were forced to hang.

They slid from the top, crashing into heaps on the ground below. The ship righted, and they crashed to the floor. Everything was dark, and quiet. They waited in silence, sparks rained down from the ceiling, bouncing off the floor. Minutes past.

'Phew,' Edward breathed, almost giddy. 'G-Glad that's over!'

'You bastard!' Neo screamed; he wrapped his fingers around his neck. 'I'll kill him!'

'Stop it!' Morpheus commanded, getting up from the floor and righting himself. Neo uncoiled his fingers, and Edward quickly escaped his clutch and sat himself in one of the blood-stained seats. Morpheus stepped towards him, 'You idiot!' he sent a punch across Edward's face. Edward clutched his cheek, dumbstruck.

'Because of you, we were almost killed by the machines! Does that not mean _anything _to you? Do the lives of your crew members not mean anything to you? And what were you doing in the Beta-Matrix? You were off on some personal crusade and peeking through windows like a dirty beggar! And while you were doing this, your team members were in mortal danger! You put everyone at risk, and now one of our members is dead because of you! _Cypher _is dead because of you! And what's more, you've clued a bluepill onto our existence! You have not just put us in danger, but many other bluepills besides! That bluepill could be killed because you have so selfishly sold him out to the Agents! You are nothing but a liability!' He breathed heavily, Edward face was red with guilt, and Morpheus knew it. 'Since coming out of the Beta-Matrix, I thought you had matured, but obviously, you're still a child!'

"M-Morpheus… I'm-."

'Not another word!' He roared and pointed for the ladder and sounded through gritted teeth, 'Get out of my sight.'

Edward pushed himself off the seat, and slowly clambered down the ladder, tears running down his face.

_He's more than just a bluepill, Morpheus. _

-/\*_;)(-

Roy shut the door to the living room, turned on the radio and lay the handkerchief covered device next to the radio. He eyed it strangely, before sighing and picking up his newspaper. But, before he could begin to read it, something red caught his eye. It smouldered and glowed in writing and he glared at it.

_What the hell is that? What is "The Matrix?" _

That night, he lay awake in his bed, staring up at the dark ceiling. He had doused the window in cold water before he left the room, but as far as he could tell, the indenting was still there, spelling out something mysterious, that he couldn't help but question.

_That's got to be alchemy. But, who could've done it? It must be someone who knows what that means, but, why me? _

-/\*_;)(-

Tears ran down Edward's cheeks and he sniffed them up as he clutched his pillow.

_It's all my fault. Someone's dead because of me! I shouldn't have forced Tank to let me in the Beta-Matrix. I should've listened to Morpheus. It didn't even get me anywhere. I didn't even get any clue as to where Al is. God, I'm such a bad brother._

The door opened before him, and his eyes followed quickly there, to find Neo stood in the doorway.

"Wh-What has Morpheus said?" He sniffled.

'Nothing much, he's pretty mad.' Neo sat down at the bottom of his bed, and Edward sat up in response. 'But he is right. What you did put the whole crew at risk, and as a result Cypher was killed.'

"H-He was probably a friend of yours, right?"

'No, I never got to know him, and he did try to kill you.' Neo shrugged.

"H-He did?" Edward stared at him. "How come Morpheus didn't say anything before?"

'What's the use in lecturing a dead person?'

Edward looked aside from Neo, and back into his pillow. "It's funny; all of you don't seem to care. I haven't seen any of you cry over Cypher. Was he really that insignificant to you all?"

Neo sighed heavily, 'When you're in the real world, it's something that you have to get used to. People die every day fighting against the machines, but it doesn't mean that everyone else should stop. We just have to cut our losses and move on; otherwise we'll never win against them.'

"So you wouldn't care if I died?"

'We would care, but nothing would stop.'

"But would _you _care?" He looked up at him, and Neo looked down in thought.

'…a little.'

"Would you cry?"

'…men don't cry.' Neo answered finally.

"Families cry."

'Am I your family, then?'

"I guess the whole ship's like a family now." Edward smiled a little.

Neo brightened up, 'Who would I be?'

"A brother, I think. Morpheus would be like the father I never had."

'And everyone else?'

"Switch and Apoc are… my Aunt and Uncle. Tank and Dozer are my Uncles. Mouse would be my brother too. Trinity… is probably more like a mother to me."

'There's some incest for you.' Neo grinned, and Edward laughed in response. 'Then what about Cypher?'

"If he ever was my family, he would be the red-headed step-child that we picked up off the street for shits and giggles."

'Harsh.'

"That's attempted murder for you." Edward sighed. "…So, would you cry over me?"

'…Yeah, but you have to cry over me, too, or I'll think you're a crappy brother.'

"Of course I would cry, you dolt." The smile faded, "How's Tank? Did he get lectured too?"

'He disobeyed Morpheus, but it's not severe. You did twist his arm; well that's what Tank says. Did you?'

"Yeah, that part was my fault too. Tank shouldn't be getting a lecture."

'It's the principle of the thing. Oh, I know why I came here now; Morpheus wanted me to tell you that you're not to go into the Beta-Matrix without supervision, and that all visits shall be conducted in the day time when there are less machines and when he can keep an eye on you.'

"He's really not going to let this go, is he?"

'You practically killed Cypher, of course he won't.'

"What about all the repairs?"

'We're going to head for Zion soon; the repairs can be done at The Dock.'

"So I'm being let off the hook for that?"

'Not exactly, all cleaning duties are now your responsibility.' Neo smirked.

"I knew that wouldn't be all of it."

'You'll get over it.' Neo stood up from the bottom of the bed. 'I hope your commanding officer's worth all of the trouble you've caused us.' Neo left the room, shutting the door behind him.

_That and more, Neo; that and more._

Edward clutched the pillow close, and sleep was catching up to him.

-/\*_;)(-

Alphonse hadn't enjoyed his first experience in the Matrix, the new truth he had to learn, the language that felt like it had been forced into his brain like a jackhammer, or "Sparks'" apparent good humour. What kind of name was Sparks anyway? Or Ghost? Or Niobe? Well, at least Niobe sounded more plausible, for the apparent Captain of the ship anyway. She definitely knew how to man a ship too; Ghost and Sparks seemed to tremble under her command.

_Reminds me of Teacher. _He mused with a faint smile, but it grew as a bowl of white slop was served to him with a spoon. The first edible thing he'd seen since he'd got here. His first meal in years! He picked up the spoon without discrimination and gulped it down hungrily, embracing the bland taste of the meal, or that there was taste at all.

_I would rather have had apple pie, but this will suit me fine. _He grinned. Before the others knew it, the dish was empty and he held the empty bowl up to them with a pleasant but famished smile. "More please." He spoke in English.

'Hey, not so fast kid.' Sparks grinned. 'Save some for the rest of us. It's got to last us a while.'

"Sorry." Alphonse apologized, "It's just, I haven't eaten anything in so long, and you wouldn't believe me if I told you why."

'Try me.' He smiled.

"It's a pretty long story; I'll just end up rambling." Alphonse dismissed.

Steps came in through the door, and Niobe stood in the doorway. 'I'd hate to break up this mother's meeting, but we're running low on supplies.'

"Supplies? Where from?"

'You don't know where we get supplies? Well, let me tell you. We're going to Zion!'

"Zion? What's that?"

'Can you believe this kid? Zion is the last human city on Earth.'

"The _last_ one?"

'It's all thanks to the machines, or I guess humans too.' Sparks reasoned.

"You must be referring to the story that Niobe told me before while I was in that Matrix thing."

'It's not a story, it's the truth. Anyone will tell you that.'

Alphonse sighed, "So, we're going to Zion?"

'Yep, to Zion!'

-/\*_;)(-

The dog panted heavily heading back for its alleyway with a tinge of pain and confusion heavy in its being. Sniffing the cold cobbled paving that made up the shadowed allow, it felt its nose press against velvety material and sniff up the musty smell of leather.

'Pathetic mutt,' a luscious voice murmured softly and long fingers scuffed daintily at its head. The dog growled and suddenly the alley was illuminated by electric red light. As the zaps of the energy died on the night air, a new form stood before the other completely full of annoyance.

'Watch where you put those fingers, Lust.' He growled.

'My, my, I _do _apologize.' She giggled lightly in her sarcastic tone. 'I forgot you were _sore _from defeat. And to think, all he did was step on your _paw_.'

'Cram it, Lust. Something fell into my mouth and shocked. It wasn't my fault.'

'Of course not, but then you should have chosen a _better _form, Envy, like one that could climb a tree?'

'That's not important right now.' Envy snarled. 'Right now, we have to tell Father. Somehow, the Fullmetal pipsqueak reappeared in Central and was able to disappear in a phone box.'

'Then he must know right away.' She smiled wickedly, and the forms slinked away through the night, dissipating into the shadows.

-/\*_;)(-

Roy glared out at the table of subordinates from his desk. He was tired, work was slow; how could he have slept with _"The Matrix"_ running through his mind? Or that weird device? He had brought it to Headquarters; it was wrapped round a handkerchief in his desk draw; he wasn't even sure why.

"Warrant officer Falman." He called finally. The man stood up from his desk and saluted respectfully.

"What is it, Colonel?"

"You've memorized the dictionary, right?"

"I'm not sure I follow." Falman said with confusion.

"Let me just ask, do you know what "Matrix" means?" He asked, his tone bored and bland.

"There are many different definitions, sir. Which one would you like?"

"Just give me all of them." Roy groaned as though his ears would finally know the meaning of true pain.

"A matrix can be defined as a womb, or a uterus; a place or medium in which something is bred, produced or developed; a setting or environment in which a particular activity or process occurs or develops; a place or point of origin and growth; the formative tissue from which a tooth, hair feather, nail, etc., arises. I could go on, sir."

"Don't bother, you'll only hurt yourself." Roy waved him away dismissively, lifting his head feebly from his desk.

"Was there any particular reason why you asked for the definition?"

"None; honestly, I thought I'd heard the word somewhere before, and I just wanted to know what it meant."

"Then you don't require my assistance anymore."

"You're free to carry on with your work, thank you." Roy watched through bored eyes as Falman sat back in his seat and pulled it up to the desk.

_Why would someone want me to know that? What purpose could it serve? It must be an alchemist; nothing else could've made those indents so purposefully. But why?_

He scratched his head, _God dammit, my head hurts. _

-/\*_;)(-

Edward lumped food into his mouth weakly. He could've slept all day, but someone with a good aim and a shoe told him otherwise.

'You ready to start your cleaning duties?' Morpheus asked from the door way of the dining room.

"Can't wait." Edward drawled.

'Well, I know how bad last night turned out. But, it seems that the machine attack was a little blessing in disguise because, as I was heading back to my bedroom, I found…' He brought an item out from behind his back. 'This in the corridor.' He held out to him a prosthetic right arm. 'And just in time for your cleaning duties too.' Morpheus handed it over and Edward pulled off his shirt the best he could. Morpheus strapped it on about the shoulder.

"It fits perfectly." Edward smiled, moving it about in every other direction. "I bet you were hiding this away from me for such an opportunity, weren't you?"

'Me? Of course not, I'm not capable of such a thing.' Morpheus winked. 'But, at least now you can handle a dust pan and brush better than before. Don't you think that's a blessing?' Morpheus glared and Edward returned it with a frown. 'Now, get to work when you're done. And, I know you didn't think so before, but I actually _mean _it this time.' Morpheus left the room.

"Why don't you just put me in a fucking maid's outfit and tie a dinky apron to my waist?" He muttered under his breath. "Make me bend over for your stinking alcohol on the bottom shelf, wouldn't you? Order me around until I'm so tired and weak you could rape me into the sheets and I wouldn't care, right? Some perverted abusive father you are."

-/\*_;)(-

Edward rested the broom against the monitor table, and slumped heavily into a chair next to the person there.

"Hey Tank." Edward breathed. "The cockpit's all done. You would not _believe _how much glass was in there."

'I ain't Tank; I'm his brother, Dozer.' Edward looked up and blinked.

"You are? Shit, sorry. I should've known with the moustache and all." He sighed. "Where is Tank, anyway? I want to apologize to him about last night."

'Leave him be, little man. He's snoozing from all the all-nighters Morpheus has had him do, you know, studying your Matrix and all.'

"I see. So you're taking over for him right now?"

'Indeed I am.' Dozer smiled as he continued to tap on the keyboard. 'But shouldn't you be working and all?'

"Oh, right, yeah. I was having a rest. Cockpit. I can talk and work." He heaved himself up out of his chair and wheeled in his trolley of cleaning equipment around to the seats. Grabbing a sponge, he plunged it into the soapy water and squeezed it out. He scrubbed it against the material, trying to work away the blood stains. "Dammit, that Cypher must've been a slob. It's so hard to get him out of the seats." He complained.

'Don't worry man, works just begun.'

"Don't say that, please." He groaned.

'That new arm's looking mighty fine on you.' Dozer smiled.

"You think so? Morpheus says he found it after the machine's attack, but I think he was keeping it from me."

''Fraid you're wrong there, little man. We found it lying in the corridor with all the other junk.'

"So I guess Morpheus was telling the truth then."

'Absolutely, you know, Morpheus may have done a lot of bad stuff in his time, but I have never heard him tell a lie in all the time I've worked with him.'

Edward continued to scrub the seats, and sighed sadly, "I'm sorry, Cypher's death was my fault."

'No need to apologize there, I didn't care much for Cypher anyway. He was always quiet, kept to himself mostly, but he seemed like one of those real unfriendly types.'

"How come?" Edward asked curiously.

'I'm not sure, but there was something about that moustache that really creeped me out.' He shivered.

_You're one to talk..._

'But enough of the morbid chatter,' Dozer smiled, 'Morpheus has got me tagging your friend along, you know; keeping an eye on him and the like, in case an Agent or two came along. But, I've gone and forgotten his name, I'm sure you can tell me right.'

"It's Colonel Roy Mustang." Edward affirmed.

'So he's a military man?' Dozer asked.

"He's a State alchemist in the Military."

Dozer tapped on the keyboard and read from the monitor.

'Let's see here, "Roy Travis Mustang, Age 30, born 12th November 1885, a Colonel in the State military, known as the Flame Alchemist.'

"That's him." Edward ran up to the monitor, forgetting that he wouldn't be able to read it. "Wait, his middle name's Travis?"

'That's what it says.' He tapped at the keyboard, 'I got a lock on him.'

"What is he doing?" Edward asked.

'He's just working at his desk; doing paperwork and such.'

"No sign of an Agent then?"

'None, little man. He's in the clear.' Footsteps echoed towards them. 'That could be Morpheus; you'd better get a workin'.' Edward rushed back to the seats and began to scrub again. Neo came in, looking at the monitor.

'Is that the guy?' he pointed.

'Yep, that's him.'

Neo looked up at Ed, glancing at him. Their eyes met, and Edward looked aside back to the seats with a blush coming up on his face.

'He's not bad looking; wouldn't you think so, Ed?' Neo asked.

"N-No, not bad." Edward muttered, scrubbing harder.

'Can you bring up a map of the building?' Neo asked.

'Sure, Neo.' He tapped on the keyboard.

'Do you think we'd be able to see the Agents?'

'Already got a lock on them; if they come in, we got an alarm going.' Dozer answered.

'Let's keep an eye on the office for now.' Neo said.

'Looks like all the other guys are leaving.' Dozer said.

"They must be going to the mess hall." Edward commented as he continued to scrub.

'Roy's not going for lunch?' Neo asked.

"He'd go if he could but he's usually so far behind on his paperwork that he works over time."

'Harsh.'

"It's his fault. He shouldn't be chatting to other women over the phone." Edward dumped the sponge back into the bucket and walked round to face the monitors with the others. "How can you guys see what's going on? Seriously, all I see is code."

'There's a trick to it.' Neo grinned. 'Now, focus on the screen without blinking.' Edward complied.

"Right, now what?"

'Zoom your head in towards the screen slowly, once again without blinking.'

Edward zoomed in and stared at the screen. "Now what?"

'Hold it there for 10 seconds and then draw your head back, but don't blink.'

"I don't see anything."

'Be patient.' He frowned, but the grin returned. 'Now, zoom in again without blinking.' Edward zoomed without blinking.

"Now what?"

'This!' Neo's hand slapped against the back of his head, and Edward's forehead smashed against the monitor screen.

"OW!" Edward clutched his forehead with tears in his eyes. "That was a dirty trick!"

'I told you not to blink!' Neo laughed.

"I didn't you asshole!" and he kicked at his ankles.

'Come on guys, quit your fussing.' Dozer sighed.

Suddenly, an alarm sounded from the monitor, shrieking in its muted way.

"That can't be good." Edward gulped.

'Three Agents are coming through the front entrance.' Dozer confirmed. 'Looks like we need Morpheus on this.'

'I'll call him.' Neo reached for the phone at the side.

"No! _I _will!" Edward grabbed the receiver from Neo's hand.

'You can't, this calls for professionals!'

"Can _you _speak Amestrian?"

'…Give me ten minutes.' Neo muttered.

'We don't _have _that kind of time!' Dozer panicked.

"I can do this, don't worry, I got him into this, I can get him out!" His fingers hovered above the buttons, shaking, and "What's the number for the cell phone?"

'Give it here!' Neo growled impatiently. He clicked the dialled the number into the phone and left to get Morpheus.

Edward's head still ached from his crash with the monitor, and as he looked into it, he found a greyscale picture of Roy at his desk. A smile of self-realisation came up brightly on his lips. On the monitor next to the other, a map of the Headquarters and its ventilation shafts were clear.

There was a ringing distantly within the receiver and he waited for Roy to pick up.

_What's taking you so long, Roy? Pick up! This is your only chance!_

-/\*_;)(-

A ringing filled his ear dully. He jumped in his seat. His eyes fell for the draw. The ringing wouldn't stop.

_Why did it…? Why now…?_

Slowly, nervously, he opened the draw, and his fingers wrapped cautiously round the handkerchief wrapped device. He opened up the wrapping for the receiver, or what he would assume was the receiver and pressed the same green button. He pressed it to his ear, but once again, kept it at a distance.

"…Hello?"

_"You think you're in your office, in the State Headquarters in a country you know to be Amestris, but it's a lie. You're in The __M__atrix." _The voice was so familiar, so clear, his eyes widened from the shock mixed with fear. _"You've found the clue on your window, you've begun to question it, but the fun doesn't stop there. It's only the beginning." _He gasped softly.

"E-Edward?"

_ "I haven't got time to explain. Right now, I need you to follow my instructions to the letter! You got that? There are people after you and I can show you the way out, but if you don't listen to me then this is the end for you! Do you copy?"_

"Yes, but, h-how are you-?"

_"Roy, don't look now, but you've got three Agents halfway up your ass!"_

"Agents? What do you-?"

Suddenly, a click came at the door. Roy stood up in preparation. Three figures stepped through and stood in his doorway. They were dressed in dark suits with a deep green sheen. Sunglasses were propped on their noses and white wires curled behind their right ears. They seemed foreign, definitely foreign. The centre Agent's deep brown hair was slicked back, and he held a look of seriousness that made him want to shrink away into the walls. That Agent stood forward and stared him down.

_"Don't make any sudden movements. These guys are near invincible, trust me." _

_ Got it. _Slowly, Roy reached his free hand into his pocket, but his narrow eyes never left the hidden orbs of the mysteriously dressed men.

'Colonel Roy Mustang, I presume.' His voice was an icy cool tone that sent shivers down his spine.

His eyes widened to the shock.

_How did he know my name?_

"Yes?" He spoke slowly, though he didn't know how he could've produced the voice to speak. "Can I help you?"

Author's note: I'm so sorry! Cypher's actions were completely unprecedented, and now you're all probably going to start shouting at me. Oops. To be honest though, I couldn't see anywhere where I could use his character to the best of my advantage, so I thought I'd give him a special chapter for a special send off. He tried to kill Ed; he technically got some action, so he served his purpose. I felt it was within character, since he did the same kind of thing to Switch and Apoc in the first film, so obviously Ed was no exception. Apoc got a little action too. I realised that he wasn't doing much, so I made him press the EMP so that he could have a chance of saving the day. Don't we all love him for it? Anyway, for those who have only _heard _of the Matrix and don't actually watch the movies, EMP stands for Electro-Magnetic Pulse. It's used to shut down all machines that are within the radius of its blast. It has even been used against other ships, but mainly it's used to fight the machines. Let's face it; Lightning rifles just don't cut it these days.

Dozer has some fun too, I know I gave him a weird accent, but it just sounded more like him and I couldn't resist. Oh, and for the Matrix definition, I actually checked an oxford dictionary for this in my school library. And yes, I really could've gone on.

Sorry to all you red-headed step-children that may be reading this right now. I mean Cypher _only_, not all you guys. If you're reading this then you're all cool. Don't forget to review, and that goes for all the non-red-head step-children out there too.

Now today, we will be losing a very important member of the writing process of these chapters. I have released Nyghthawk from the beta-reading of my chapters. She has been active since Chapter 5, and though it seems, looking at it from a distance, that she's not done much if she's leaving on Chapter 8, well that's where you're wrong. When she beta-reads, she does a very thorough job of it and so, because of the amount of effort she puts in, she will be missed dearly.

She has said that she may return in the near future, but that when and whether she will is still unknown to me. Hopefully, she will return, but once again, I won't force her. I won't say why she's leaving, but just know she'll be missed.

Which brings me to my next point; I am recruiting a new beta-reader now, to keep the updating of chapters going. The next chapter 9, will be due to appear in two weeks (I know this because I've already written it), so it would be great to see one of you guys, you reviewers especially to be asking if you feel up to it. If you feel up to scratch, have the time, and feel like you can update on time, then send in a request by PM, I won't stress that you should request by review, because maybe you wouldn't want to reveal to those who read the reviews page that you're requesting.

I will try and keep whoever's the new beta-reader discreetly private until Chapter 9 comes out. I hope to see some requests.

Thank you as well, all of you, for supporting this fiction by reviewing. Remember, I can't update without a review. You all mean a lot. Thank you for your support.

Ophelia Davis

Xxx


	9. Let The Flames Begin

'What's going on?' Morpheus asked as he and Neo ran into the room. 'Why aren't you working?' He eyed Edward furiously as he was watching the monitor with the phone in hand.

'The Agents have made their move.' Neo answered. 'They're confronting Edward's commanding officer, Roy.'

'Now do you see the mess you've gotten him into?' Morpheus admonished, 'This is exactly why you shouldn't have been in the Beta-Matrix last night. No one has fought the Agents and lived; he's going to die because of you!'

"Don't you think I know that?" Edward screamed back, muffling the receiver with his hand. "Look, I have no time right now for one of your lectures, so if you want to be helpful, be ready to meet him in the Beta-Matrix or something." Edward scowled, and reconnected the receiver to his ear. He waited silently with patience.

Morpheus and Neo sat themselves into a seat each while Dozer plugged them in.

-/\*_;)(-

Roy had the cell phone held distantly to his ear; the eerie quiet on the other end was just as unnerving as having discouraging abuse screamed at you. Thank goodness Edward was on his side.

'I am Agent Smith. Someone who knows too much, who holds all the cheat codes to this game that we call reality, has given the game away and you, my friend, are the most unfortunate recipient to this system leak. '

Roy held a steady gaze.

_So __these __guys __can __speak __fluent __Amestrian?_

"You mean, "The Matrix"." His eyes narrowed.

'Then you are indeed the man we have been searching for.' A smirk curled up on his lips. 'You see, when someone decides to cheat the game, it is only a matter of time before not only one, but one million and counting are clued in and the situation is too much to contain. It seems lucky for us that we can contain it so soon.'

"And what do you mean to do with me, to _contain_the situation?" His hand clenched tightly in his pocket.

'We would have to destroy all evidence connected to the leak, all material evidence, all witnesses, all contributors and all recipients. The contributors were dealt with the night you received it, and the material and witnesses were destroyed earlier, but now all that's left is you, to whom we will do the same.' Agent Smith chuckled with a sinister grin. 'There is no need to squirm, this _will_ inevitably result in your death, but it is a very insignificantly _small_ sacrifice I am willing to make.'

"So is that it, am I just some piece of trash that you feel the need to throw away?"

'Don't flatter yourself, Colonel Roy Mustang; you are much less than that. You are a bug, no, a parasite in this existence. And, now that you have already been conditioned into the knowing of The Matrix's existence, you must be wiped out before you and others of your kind spread it amongst yourselves and destroy the existence that you have been so generously given.'

"Then, I guess there's no use in asking for a second chance?" Roy smirked and the arm leading to his pocket tensed.

'How _human_ of you to suggest such a thing! In the case of you parasites there are no second chances, no exceptions and certainly no special favours.'

The fire roared. Smoke enveloped the room and the three agents lay convulsing on the floor, their bodies riddled with burns. Roy stood with his right hand posed from the snap, and a satisfied smirk on his face.

"Then there won't be any second chances for you either."

-/\*_;)(-

'HOLY SHIT!' Dozer screamed. 'He torched 'em all! Blew 'em up! How could he possess such fire power?'

"That's just good old-fashioned alchemy! They don't call him Flame for nothing!" Edward laughed, but his smile fell when the agents hadn't stopped moving, Dozer noticed it too.

'Shoot, I think it's going to take more than that, little man. They're not done for yet!'

-/\*_;)(-

"_Roy,__" _Edward spoke from the cell phone, _"__let __me __remind __you __that __these __are __Agents, __it__'__s __going __to __take __more __than __that __to __destroy __them.__"_

"How do I do that?"

_"__Aim __for __the __head __and __chest, __but __never__mind __that! __Above __your __desk __there __should __be __an __entrance __into __the __ventilation __system. __If __you __can __reach __into __there __in __time, __then __I __can __direct __you __out __of __the __building!__"_

"Right, I'm going to need two hands for this."

_"__Fine, __I__'__ll __call __you __back.__" _Roy hung up and dropped it in his pocket. Burning anxiety flared in his gut, and he reached for his seat, lifting it onto his desk. He clambered up onto the desk and lead with his good foot onto the chair.

_Shit, __this __thing __can__'__t __be __steady._

He looked back to the floor, and already the Agents were getting up, their bodies were still covered in burns.

_Oh __CRAP! __Never __mind __balance, __I__'__ve __got __to __get __in __there __NOW!_

He climbed onto the seat proper and reached for the trap door above.

_Damn, __the __ceiling__'__s __too __high __up! __I __can__'__t __reach __it!_

Gun shots filled the air. His seat collapsed to one side and he fell onto the desk. An Agent dragged him onto his back to the floor. Roy kicked the Agent's legs and he fell to the floor. Another poised their gun. His hands went behind and he kicked the gun from his hand. It landed by his hands and he grabbed it. The bullet hit an Agent's chest and he collapsed. Roy got to his feet, a fist caught his face and he wheeled back, spitting blood. Agent Smith came at him with a fist to his gut. Roy grunted against them, deflecting their blows and punching his solar plexus. Another punch to the face, and he wheeled against a cabinet by the side wall. He spat blood onto the floor, trying to get up weakly. Agent Smith grabbed and spun him towards the door side wall.

Roy yelped as he broke through the wall, collapsing against another in the corridor. He looked weakly, aching as other soldiers stared at him. He looked back towards the hole that he'd made and found Agent Smith reaching for his gun.

He snapped his fingers, the whole room flared up and he ran down the corridor. The cell phone rang in his pocket and he answered it, hardly caring for the little shocks that hit his fingers.

"Not a good time right now!"

_"__I __know, __but __you__'__re __close __to __a __stairwell. __Get __to __the __front __of __military __HQ __and __run __for __Hughes__'__s __phone__box. __Don__'__t __let __them __kill __you, __but __do __what __you __have __to __do __to __get __there!__"_

"You don't have to tell _me _twice." He crashed into someone and fell back.

"Colonel!" Hawkeye admonished. "What is the-."

"Three Agents are after me! Run now and save yourself!" Roy got up to run.

"How will I know-."

"Dark green suits!" Roy screamed and he turned the corner.

'Ah,' the velvety voice echoed from the other side of the corridor, 'a human who dares to challenge me!'

Hawkeye's gun was poised and ready. She pulled her trigger and shot at Agent Smith. He dodged them in quick succession. He pulled out his gun quicker than she could respond and a shot was fired. Her world shattered.

-/\*_;)(-

"Edward! Can you hear me? Edward!" Roy called through the cell phone as he jumped steps. A buzz erupted in his ear and the cell phone went dead. He found a sign on the wall of the door and a sense of relief flared up.

_Yes, __ground __floor! __I__'__m __almost __at __the __entrance!_

He ran down the hall from the stairwell.

-/\*_;)(-

His hand shook, and slowly, deaf to Roy's calls, hung up the phone.

'Edward? You can't stop now!' Dozer looked up at Edward's shaking form as he weakly slumped into a seat. 'Edward?'

"L-Lâ€¦" he uttered softly.

'Are you Ok?' Dozer squeezed his shoulder.

"Th-They killedâ€¦ Lieutenant Hawkeyeâ€¦" Tears fell down his cheeks.

'I'm sorry, buddy. You knew her?' He asked sympathetically.

"She was a subordinate in my office; and they killed herâ€¦ just like thatâ€¦"

'That's what happens, little man. If a bluepill tries to fight an Agent, they're as good as dead. It can't be helped.'

"No, of course it could've been helped. I shouldn't have put Roy at risk in the first place; then none of this would've happened."

'It's a little late to be saying that. She's gone, but the Colonel's still in major trouble. You got to be there and help him out. Stop regretting the past.'

He sighed finally, 'was she a friend of the Colonel's?'

"She worked under him just as I did, but, I-I don't know how deep their relationship was or anything."

'Then he'll be sad if you tell him.'

"Y-Yeah."

'You know, little man, if he gets out of this, you don't have to. He doesn't need to know.' He patted his back reassuringly.

"No. He has to know." Edward said firmly. "If I kept it from him then I would be making myself out to be a liar."

Edward looked up to him, sniffling up his tears. Dozer shot him a hopeful smile.

The phone rang. He picked it up hesitantly.

"H-Hello?"

'_Where__'__s __the __Colonel __now?__' _Morpheus asked.

"H-He's almost at the front entrance." Edward affirmed, glancing at the monitor. "He's almost in the clear."

_'__I __wouldn__'__t __say __that __just __yet, __Edward. __Now, __pass __me __over __to __Dozer.__'_

Edward complied and handed it over.

'Uh-huh, yep, one Amestrian language for Neo.' Dozer tapped on his keyboard with the receiver arrested between his ear and shoulder. 'Here you go, little man.' Dozer passed the receiver back to Edward.

-/\*_;)(-

'Where have you specified a meeting place for the Colonel?' Morpheus was stood by the phone booth, a black car parked up by his side.

_"__At __the __east __phone__booth __in __a __courtyard __just __outside __of __Headquarters.__"_ He answered, wiping the tears away.

'Then that's where we are now.' Morpheus answered. 'If he's close to the entrance, we'll intercept from the Agents while we can.'

_"__Right, __I__'__ll __warn __Roy __then.__" _Morpheus hung up and turned to Neo.

'Go for the front entrance. The Colonel should be there.'

Neo nodded and ran.

-/\*_;)(-

Roy ran frantically into the foyer, his legs felt like heavy lead and he just wanted to collapse and get it over with. The cell phone rang in his pocket and he answered it.

"Ed, what happened to you? You went dead on me."

_"__Y-Yeah, __sorry. __Right, __get __through __the __front __entrance __and __you __should __see __a __guy __with __black __hair __wearing __a __black __coat __and __sunglasses. __They__'__ll __be __another __close__by. __He__'__s __bald __and __dark-skinned. __They__'__ll __help __you __out __and __get __you __away __from __the __Agents.__"_

"You'd better be right."

_"__When __have __I __ever __been __wrong?__"_

"Do you want me to list them now?" Roy smirked as he ran for the door.

'You put up quite a fight, Colonel Roy Mustang.' The voice called with an icy severity, and Roy's face grew pale. A force connected suddenly with his stomach and he flew across the room, falling back into a desk. The cell phone fell from his hand, and crunched under the polished shoe of another Agent. 'But now's the time for you to give up, and die.' Roy growled defiantly as Agent Smith's footsteps grew closer and closer. He lifted his right hand to snap, but it was suddenly trodden on at the wrist. Roy screamed as the foot grinded his wrist into the floor. A snap erupted from within, and the Agent released his wrist, to reveal a bloody twisted mess. He tried to move his fingers, but he got nothing but pain. He clutched it weakly.

'So this must be it.' Agent Smith smiled, grabbing a hold of the broken wrist and sliding the gloves from his hand. 'The reason you could escape from us soâ€¦easily.' He ripped the glove to shreds and kneeled down in front of him, throwing the pieces in his face. 'You _humans_really are a disease. You fight against the system that controls you, but in the endâ€¦ it's all a worthless struggle. And you don't even know the true extent of what you're up against.' Roy turned aside to face his mangled wrist despairingly. '_We_are the ones in control! _We_are the cure!'

Roy turned up and spat blood in his face. Agent Smith wrinkled his face in disgust. He wiped it away, and with the same hand beat him across the face. The other Agent brought out a gun and held it against Roy's temple.

'Now, now, Agent Thompson.' Agent Smith put his hand up. 'Let _me_take care of this.' Agent Thompson obediently handed over the gun and Agent Smith held it to his temple. Roy squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the inevitable.

_Edward, __you __said __you __would __get __me __out __of __this__â€¦_

The shot rang out through the foyer.

Agent Thompson collapsed. Agent Smith glared at the event with an air of calculated confusion. Cool metal brushed the back of his head and held there. Agent Smith gritted his teeth.

Roy looked up towards the assassin slowly. A man with black hair and sunglasses and wearing a black coat; that had to be him. A smile alighted on his face; he could feel himself beginning to brim with new hope.

The man kicked Agent Smith away, sending him sprawling across the floor.

'You must be Roy, right?' He asked as he helped him up.

"Y-Yeah." He breathed, surprised that yet another foreigner could speak his language.

'Then go through the front entrance. You'll see a man stood by a phone booth. He'll help you out.'

"What about you? Will you be-?"

'Just go! I can take him!'

Roy nodded and ran for the entrance. He clutched his mangled wrist, the blood dripped along his path. As he reached outside, he found the man, stood by the phone booth as the other had told. Bald, dark-skinned and wearing circular dark lensed spectacles. His smile brightened, and he took a step towards the stairs. His foot slipped weakly out of place, and his vision blurred. The last thing he noticed was the man running towards him and the hard edges of the stone steps.

-/\*_;)(-

Edward waited tensely for news, clutching his knees to him, watching the monitor.

The phone rang, and Edward picked it up.

_'__Edward, __we__'__ve __got __the __Colonel. __He__'__s __got __a __few __broken __bones; __his __wrist __has __been __crushed, __he__'__s __suffered __blood__loss __and __he__'__s __unconscious, __but __otherwise __he__'__s __fine. __We__'__ll __tell __you __if __anything __else __comes __up.__'_

"Are you going to give him the red pill?"

_'__That __remains __to __be __seen. __It __is __his __choice __after__all.__'_

"R-Right; of course."

_'__Get __me __Trinity, __Switch __and __Apoc. __We__'__re __going __to __need __some __assistance.__'_

"Right."

_'__And __let __Dozer __take __the __calls __for __now.__'_

"I'll get them now then." Edward hung up and let the top deck, rushing for the crewmembers Morpheus needed.

-/\*_;)(-

Neo stepped in through the door, leaning against the wall.

'You stopped Agent Smith then?' Morpheus asked.

'For now.' Neo breathed. 'But he didn't follow me.'

'Good, then we can start the process once the Colonel awakes.' Morpheus smiled.

Roy stirred, his vision came back into focus, and he found himself sat up in an old red armchair. He looked around blurrily; he found his wrist was bandaged. He looked around to find the paler man resting against a wall in a darkly lit room. Before him, a man sat waiting with his fingers laced expectantly.

'Ah, you're awake.' He smiled.

"Where am I?" Roy asked.

'A hotel room for now, but not for long.' Morpheus held out his left hand. 'I'm Morpheus, my associate over there is Neo, and you must be Colonel Roy Mustang.' Roy blinked and shook his hand, dumbfounded.

"I have a feeling we've met before. Your voice sounds familiar."

'Yes, it was when I made a phone call to your office and first contacted Edward.'

"So, you're the Dream guy?"

Neo sputtered a laugh he couldn't choke back.

'Apparently so,' Morpheus shot a frown at Neo, and turned back to Roy.

"Why have you brought me here? You could've left me to die and saved yourselves the trouble."

'It's no trouble at all, Roy. You see, we feel that we owe you an explanation. Last night, there was a trespasser at your window. He used alchemy to transmute a message into your window.'

"The Matrix." He voiced, reciting the message.

'Yes,' Morpheus smiled, 'for whatever reason he chose to do it, he did it to plant a thought into your head; to wonder at its meaning, what possible significance it could carry and why it's there. This triggered the Agents that you saw to come after you, because they were afraid that you would find out about something that you weren't meant to know.'

Roy thought for a moment, "One of them told me that someone had given me a cheat code; that there was a system leak that had to be contained. They called me a parasite like they weren't human themselves, and said that I must be wiped out now that I know of the Matrix's existence."

'Although he didn't mean for you to get hurt, I have a feeling that he did what he did to create an opportunity where you would be confronted by the Agents.'

"Who would be trying to create that opportunity?"

'You know him already; he guided you out of your Headquarters and to us.'

"â€¦Edward." Roy uttered.

'Exactly.' Morpheus smiled.

"Then he wants me to know what The Matrix is."

'Yes,' he leaned forward, 'The Matrix is everywhere. It's here in this room. It's there when you wake up. It's there when you look out of your window. It's there when you listen to the radio, when you eat a meal or when you fight. It is the world that has been pulled over your eyes to blind you from the truth.'

"The truth?"

'That you, like everyone else, have been born into slavery and kept inside a prison where you cannot smell, taste or touch. A prison for your mind.'

Roy's eyes widened in shock, and he leaned back into chair. He had that same feeling again, like he wanted to shrink away from the situation.

"Then, my whole life has been a lieâ€¦"

'That is how it appears, but it doesn't have to be this way for the _rest_of your life.' He reached into his pockets, took out two pills, a red and a blue one and held them out for him on each hand. Roy eyed them suspiciously. 'If you take the blue pill, then you'll wake up in your bed and believe what you choose to believe; you'll forget everything about this conversation. The Ma trix, meeting the Agents, everything and it'll be just like another day.' Roy reached temptingly towards the blue pill. 'But, if you choose the red pill then you will be shown the truth of your existence, and set free from this prison.'

"You expect me to make this choice now?" Roy growled; his eyes fixed on the pills.

'Yes.' Morpheus didn't waver in his answer.

"There's so much to take in. I feel like I need longer to think about it. Could I have 24 hours and then meet you again with my answer?"

'If only it were that simple. You see, with the state you're in and the information you know, it would be too risky to let you go free. It would only be a matter of time before the Agents found you again and killed you. We cannot afford you 24 hours, that's why we need your answer now.'

"Edward must have taken the red pill. Did he make the choice easily, or did it take him longer?"

Neo stared hard at Morpheus, who caught his glare. Morpheus sighed.

'Edward was on the verge of death, so at the time, he didn't have a choice.'

"Then I doubt you'll let me have a choice either." Roy frowned. "You want me to take the red pill, don't you?"

'I can see how this must be hard for you, what with your life here and your career prospects, but there is something you have to understand. Edward took a great risk in getting you here. A lot of sacrifices had to be made so that I could offer you the chance of freedom from the Matrix.'

"Sacrificesâ€¦?"

'Human lives, Roy.'

Roy's eyes widened.

"You mean to say, that, Edward is a murderer? He's not that kind of guy!"

'I agree, and in Edward's choice I'm sure he never meant for anyone to die, but it happens.' Morpheus sighed.

"You sound like those Agents! How can you treat human lives like nothing?" Roy grabbed his collar, "Huh?" The pills slipped from Morpheus's hand and rolled onto the coffee table between them.

'But how can a soldier argue that case?' Neo called from the wall, 'being a Colonel, I'm sure you've had to kill a lot of people, leaving them to die in ditches and treat them like nothing as well. Doesn't that make you a hypocrite?' Roy stared up at him, and chewed his lips from the truth of his words. He released Morpheus, stepped out from in front of the chair and made for the door by Neo's side.

"Thanks for your offer." Roy growled, "But I need a hospital right now. Give Edward my regards." As he reached for the door handle with his left hand, Neo forced his arm across the doorway, obstructing Roy's retreat.

'How can you walk away from this?' Neo seethed. 'If you care about human lives as much as you say, then you wouldn't want those sacrifices to be for nothing.'

'Roy,' Morpheus called, standing up from his chair, 'if you really want to know why Edward took the risk to get you here, then I suggest you ask him yourself.' Out of his pocket, he pulled out another red pill. Roy turned back to him, and stared down at the red pill. He felt a hand upon his back and slowly he was being guiding by Neo back to Morpheus.

Roy plucked the red pill from his hand, and stared at it.

_Blue __or __red; __the __Military __or __Edward._

He sighed, "I guess I really don't have a choice then. You're not going to let me walk away from this, so why bother giving me the choice."

'You may think we're akin to the Agents, but primarily we are nothing alike. Humans have choices and give choices, and despite what any man or machine will say, you're still human.' Morpheus smiled.

Roy nodded, finally returned his smile and swallowed the pill. Neo smiled also.

'Follow me.' Morpheus and Neo led him in through the door parallel to the entrance, the door shut behind them.

-/\*_;)(-

The phone rang and Edward jumped to answer it before Dozer could react.

"Yes?"

_'__Roy__'__s __taken __the __red __pill.__' _Edward fell back into his seat with relief.

"Thank goodness." He breathed.

_'__I __thought __I __told __you __to __let __Dozer __take __the __calls?__'_

"But you said you would call me if anything came up."

He heard a heavy sigh from the other side. _'__What __am __I __going __to __do __with __you?__' _His voice was jovial. _'__Anyway, __get __some __rest __for __now, __and __pass __the __phone __to __Dozer.__' _

"Alright," Edward passed the receiver over to Dozer.

'Yup, will do.' Dozer answered. Seeing Edward still sat by his side, he put a hand to the receiver and growled, 'Didn't Morpheus tell you to go sleeping?'

"He did, but what he doesn't know can't hurt him." Edward grinned.

'It's not Morpheus I'm worried about.' Dozer frowned.

Edward rolled his eyes and stood up from his seat. "I get it, I'm going."

-/\*_;)(-

Edward couldn't sleep. How could he sleep? He was so anxious he felt like Christmas was coming early. A knock came at his door, and he glanced over and found Morpheus peeking through.

'Were you asleep?'

"No," Edward answered, "What is it?"

'Roy's out of the Matrix, we'll be picking him up soon. We've already set coordinates for the Power Plant.'

Edward grinned.

'You look like a kid ready to pick up his new puppy.' Morpheus smiled.

"I-I guess you could say that."

Morpheus came into the room proper and sat down at his bed. 'You know he's not going to be up to much when he gets here. He'll be very weak, tired and disorientated; much like you were when you came out of the Beta-Matrix.'

"I know." Edward smiled. "But he'll get over it quickly. You can't even keep him off work when he has the flu." Edward grinned at the memory, remembering how the subordinates of the office kept a wide birth as he sniffled and shivered slowly through each sheet of paperwork. He was so out of it, you could've got him to sign illegal forms without discretion.

'But this and the flu are two very different things. He'll have to recover from muscle atrophy and get used to the aches and pains of his real body, so don't go wearing him down, ok?'

"I won't." Edward sighed.

'At least try and obey that order.' Morpheus smiled.

"What? I got to bed when you said, didn't I?"

'But not getting much rest.' He stood up and stepped for the door. 'Try and get some sleep.' He turned the light off in Edward's room and shut the door behind him. Edward was left in the dark, sat up anxiously.

-/\*_;)(-

'Edward?' Neo called from outside his bedroom, knocking at the door.

"What?" Edward groaned sleepily, wiping his eyes.

'We're at the Power Plant.'

Edward jerked up and pounced from his bed for the door. He banged his head and collapsed. "Owâ€¦" He groaned.

'How about trying that again with less enthusiasm, hm?'

He could practically hear him grinning from the other side. Neo opened the door but it jammed against Edward's head, "OW!"

'Like, maybe say, I don't know if you've heard of this, but it's called _walking_?'

"Ha ha, you stupid bastard." Edward groaned as he picked himself up. He grabbed the door open from Neo's grip and followed him lazily.

'Where's all that fight in you gone?'

"Shut up, I'm tired."

Stepping up the ladder, he found the others waiting in the realms of the top deck, all stood before an opened hatch door and a metal grabber and cable fixed above.

"Wow, what a big turn out." Edward smiled.

'He's going to be a part of our crew after all, he deserves some welcome.' M0orpheus smiled. 'I can see you managed to get some sleep.'

"Not much." He frowned.

'Maybe you should've brushed your hair first; you want to look presentable for him, don't you?' Neo grinned teasingly, scuffing up his short hair. Edward batted his hand away with annoyance.

"Stop it will you?" He growled, "I'm cranky and sleepy."

'I'll say.'

'You two, calm down.' Morpheus admonished. He turned over to Tank, who had resumed his place at his desk of monitors. 'Where is he now?'

'He's fallen into the sewer line; we should be ready to grab him any minute now.' He tapped on his keyboard and the crane began to automatically lower itself.

"You've found him?" Edward breathed.

'Yep, we've got a lock on him. Get ready to pick him up.'

Edward waited tentatively on the chain, the anxiety rose in his gut as the jingle and light dance of the chain radiated against his ear. Suddenly, the chain stopped, and began to rise slowly with the new bulk on the other end. The body rose limply through the hatch and Trinity and Apoc pulled him from over it. It released him, and towels were brought out.

-/\*_;)(-

He folded his arms to himself, weakly shivering from the cold, feeling grateful for the friction of towels. He looked at all the people staring down at him as if he were a novelty. His eyes ached from the light glare, and soon he found them falling onto a familiar face.

His eyes were big and golden, his hair short and blond and sticking up in every other direction but down. He was clad in blue flannel clothing, which had laddered, was blood-stained and a little moth-eaten in places.

_"__Hey, __stranger.__" _Edward grinned, greeting him in Amestrian.

_"__Ch-Chase__?__" _The word drawled from Roy's lips but fell on the air as he collapsed against the metal floor, unconscious.


	10. Undisclosed Desires

He sneaked to the door with careful precision; his hand guided him along the wall. He peeked in through the door, still left ajar, and gazed through at the form he hoped to see. There was a hinting of naked flesh between the two forms stood in the way and he blushed. He could've stayed there a while longer; his smile would've been permanently cemented to his face.

The door was pulled open, and Morpheus stood before him.

'Is something the matter, Edward?'

"Well, I-I was just wondering…if I could come and visit Roy?" He looked up at him hopefully.

'I'm afraid not Edward. He's asleep at the moment. You'll just get bored.'

"N-No I won't. I can sit for a while; he doesn't have to be awake."

'He needs his rest, he's very weak. Now, why don't you go and continue with your cleaning duties, hm? I'm sure you haven't forgotten about them.'

"N-No, of course not." He sighed and turned away for the top deck. His cleaning equipment was still there from yesterday, awaiting him with stale foamy water and the faint smell of bleach. He grimaced at the thought of cleaning while Roy was still laid up and recovering, but it couldn't be helped. He took out a mop, sloshed it in the water and began to scrub along the dusty floor.

'He's still got you doing that, hasn't he?' Neo smiled from the side lines. It was just the two of them. Tank was still catching up on sleep and Dozer was still busy caring for Roy.

"You can help me if you're just going to stand there." Edward sniped.

'I'd rather not, they're _you're _duties after all.' He smirked.

"Shouldn't you be with Trinity?" His eyes didn't stray from the floor he was scrubbing; Neo didn't deserve the eye contact. Not while he was watching him work.

'Shouldn't you be with Roy?'

Edward's heart skipped a beat, but he tried to pay it no heed.

"M-Morpheus says I have to let him rest." He dumped the mop back in the bucket and sloshed the water to the floor.

'That shouldn't stop you. You took the risk to get him here, you put a lot of lives in danger, and now that he's just down the hall, you're just going to stay here and mop the floor?'

"I know." Edward growled, "Sucks, doesn't it?"

Neo sighed heavily, 'Edward, why did you go to the trouble in the first place?'

A blush burned up on his cheeks, his mind darted for the appropriate answer; he couldn't just come out with it.

"I-I thought he would be helpful to the Resistance." He stammered.

'We're not the only ones fighting against the machines, Edward. There are thousands of others in Zion. We're not straining for numbers.'

Edward gulped, "I thought we were…"

'I don't even know why I'm asking.' He frowned. 'The looks you give him, they're not what I would call camaraderie.'

"W-What would you call it?" Edward gulped harder.

'…Fondness, or something deeper maybe.'

Edward felt like his heart had jumped into his throat, the warmth at its core warmed the edges of his eyes and he tried to choke them back. "I-I don't know what you mean…"

'Spare me, Ed. You're scared, I get it, because you're afraid that after all this, he'll push you away, but you know, It's the 22nd Century; it's time for you to get over it. Yes, someone's going to bite your head off, but what does it matter? It's your life, not theirs.' He stood up from his wall, and made for the ladder.

"…I'm not scared." He echoed finally, the scrubbing had stopped; he gripped the handle of the mop close to his chest. "I know he won't reciprocate, I've already resigned myself to the idea. But, going back into the Beta-Matrix, my world, and seeing him there I knew that I couldn't just return without at least trying. I would regret it if I didn't… And even if he doesn't return my feelings, I can be happy knowing that at least he'll be by my side, and I'll be by his, supporting each other through this mess of a real world and fighting against the machines like true subordinates… That's all I can really ask for, and I know that at least, if I die in the heat of battle, or of old age, that I'll be dying with a smile on my face, if that's all it really amounts to…" Tears fell down his cheek and added to the soapy puddle at his feet.

'You know,' Neo smiled, 'You're supposed to strain the water out before you start mopping,' and he climbed down the ladder, the metal clang of shoes on steps echoed as Edward wept silently on the top deck, on his own now like he thought he was before.

-/\*_;)(-

Looking about the top deck, he smiled a little more hopefully. The floor was clean, shining even. Most of the debris that had been gained from the invasion had been cleaned away, except for the flaps of metal that hung low after the machines' intrusive attacks. The blood that had splattered the seats, and his clothes for that matter, were irremovable now, but it hardly mattered. It was a memento of the crew member that had been slain and of their last victorious fight. It was a piece of the Nebuchadnezzar that had remained solidly in its history. He nodded at a job well done and slumped into an operator chair. The cleaning equipment had been discarded in the middle of the floor, and he was so sick of it that he never wanted to feel the sting of bleach in the back of his throat or his eyes ever again.

'Someone's been working hard.' Neo smiled, carrying two bowls of glop up to the top deck.

"Yeah," Edward smiled.

'I guess there's nothing left for me to do.'

"You didn't do anything anyway you bastard, although, if you _really _want to help then how about removing that trolley from my sight for, let's say, forever?"

'No problem.' Neo laughed. 'Have some glop, you deserve it.' He laid the dish in front of him and a spoon.

"In my whole life, I never thought I'd be so pleased to see glop right now." Edward spooned some into his mouth, taking in the bland flavour as if it were roast chicken.

'How are you feeling?' Neo asked between mouthfuls.

"Hm? About what?" Edward asked.

'You know,' Neo blushed a little from the embarrassment, 'about our conversation earlier.' He neared closer to his face. 'About you and Roy.' He mouthed.

"Oh!" His realisation caused the heat to rise to his face. "Right, yeah, erm… better, I guess."

'You're blushing.' Neo smiled.

"So? It's a touchy subject!"

'But you're feeling better about it?'

"Yeah, I-I think it's better now that I've been able to get it off my chest a little, and, I'm a little surprised."

'What about?' Neo asked through a mouth of glop.

"You're not as dense as you look."

'Of course I'm not dense!' Neo frowned.

"Well, I'm glad at least someone knows, and you're not teasing me about it." Edward poked the glop in his with distraction. "I mean, honestly, I thought you'd be the first one to point and laugh."

'You think I would do something like that? Come on Ed, you underestimate me.'

"You were quick to argue Uma Thurman over Lucy Lui."

'You made fun of Trinity.'

"Oh, yeah, I did do that, didn't I?" Edward sighed.

'You know what, it doesn't matter who we think is better than the other, or whether you're gay, straight or bisexual, I guess I'm just glad you've found someone who you love almost as much as I love Trinity.'

Edward looked up at him, and smiled, "Thanks."

'No problem.' As they continued to eat, a degree of silence purveyed the room, until a glint of a smirk caught Edward's lips.

"You have to admit though, Roy _is _pretty hot."

'Oh yeah, if I was gay, I would jump on him faster than a fat kid on a cupcake.' He nodded in approval.

"Do I detect a hint of jealousy?"

'Of course not, I have Trinity.'

"True, although, now that I think about, she does look like a female version of Roy."

'Don't say that.' Neo grimaced.

"Why not?"

'I've got him stuck in my head.'

"On the outside, it'll be all about Trinity, but really you'll be thinking about Roy all night long, priceless." Edward grinned.

'Looks like Roy's got competition.'

"Not if I can help it, and besides, the way I see it, if Roy had his way, he'll be coming onto Trinity."

'Why would he? It would be just like he was fucking himself.'

Edward stared pointedly at him.

'Oh, that kind of guy, huh?' Neo sighed.

"If things were different, I would say he was a vain, narcissistic, and useless bastard but, what can I do?" He sighed forlornly.

'Boy have you got it rough.'

"No kidding." Edward handed Neo the empty bowl and murmured his thanks.

'I wouldn't worry about it, things will work out.' He smiled hopefully.

"As if you believe in that bull." He pouted.

'You're right, I don't, but I'm sure you do.'

Edward smiled to himself, "Thanks for understanding."

'No problem.'

"But, this isn't something you can tell everyone else, ok? You have to keep it a secret."

'Yeah, of course.' He nodded, and headed for the ladder. 'Oh, are you going to see Roy soon?'

"If Baldy Mc8ball lets me." He frowned.

'Well, he can't keep you off him forever.'

"Let's hope." Edward smirked, but turning around, Neo was already down the ladder.

-/\*_;)(-

Edward stuck his head around the door, Neo was just close behind.

'Edward, back so soon?' Morpheus asked, he'd been expecting him this time, although his smile didn't belie it.

"Well, I finished my cleaning duties on the top deck and I thought, since it took me a few hours, that he'd be better this time."

'He's awake, but we're conducting some operations.' Morpheus answered.

"O-Operations? While he's awake…?" Edward winced.

'Nothing like surgery.' Morpheus smiled. 'We're using acupuncture to boost muscle growth.'

"Then I guess it's another bad time, right?" Edward looked downcast to the floor.

'Yes, I'm afraid-.'

"_E-Edward…" _ A dry voice called out, coughing lightly. "_I-Is that you_?"

"_Yeah, it's me._" Edward brightened up and he pushed past Morpheus, found a seat near the surgical table and pulled himself up to Roy's side. "_How are you feeling_?" He asked with a sympathetic smile.

"_Like I've been run over by a train, and it reversed back on me." _He smiled a little. "_What's going on? These guys keep talking in a foreign language to each other, like I'm not in the room."_

_ "They're just speaking English. But don't worry, Morpheus can speak Amestrian too."_

_ "I had noticed." _He sighed weakly and squinted.

'Tank, run the full body scans.' Morpheus ordered.

"_Can we turn the light down? Why do my eyes hurt so much?"_

_ 'You're seeing things for the first time.' _Morpheus answered.

_ "For the first time?" he asked hoarsely._

_ 'The body you had in the Beta-Matrix was a figment of your mind, used to make you believe that the place you lived in was definitely reality.'_

_ "It's like temporary accommodation. You know the crappy apartment before the mansion." Edward explained further. _

_ "I liked my apartment; it got me through a lot." _Roy chuckled dryly.

'I'm glad I got the Amestrian language download.' Neo smiled from the doorway.

'Speak for yourself.' Tank frowned, tapping at a side monitor. 'I might as well be deaf.'

"_What happened to your hair, Ed?" _Roy laughed, signalling to it with his eyes.

_"The same thing that happened to yours; you're as bald as Morpheus." _Edward grinned.

_"And your clothes? What happened to your jacket?" _

_ "That was part of the Beta-Matrix. This is all they have."_

_ "Don't tell me I'll have to wear that." _Roy frowned.

_"Of course not, you wouldn't fit into it." _Edward laughed, Roy smiled.

"_At least it'll be better than wearing this towel over my crotch." _Roy sighed resignedly. _"I wish that Neo guy would stop staring."_ Neo turned his head away, whistling nonchalantly. _"Jealous." _Roy smirked.

_'Something you're not telling us, Neo?' _Morpheus chuckled at his own little quip.

Though Edward had been sat by him, it was the first time that he realised Roy was practically naked. His eyes strayed a little down his smooth, thin body. He hoped Roy wouldn't notice his gaze switching, but as they moved lower down each pale limb, his face was burning brighter, as if any second his cheeks would transmute themselves into great flaming beacons. Roy had noticed.

_"One day, Edward. This'll all be yours." _Roy chuckled, but Edward's whole body boiled a bright red until you could mistake him for having severe sunburn.

_"I-I wasn't, erm, erm, I…"_

_"What's to be embarrassed about? As hard as it is to believe, you'll hit puberty, and then you'll be having growth spurts all over the place. You'll see."_

_ "O-Oh, right, of course that's what you meant." _Edward tried to smile away the blush, hoping that Roy's eyesight wasn't as adept as picking up on it yet.

Neo snorted a laugh.

'Morpheus? I think you should take a look at this.' Tank signalled with his finger, and Morpheus moved to see the monitor.

_"Is something wrong? Tank, is it?"_ But Tank ignored him; each couldn't tell what the other was saying. "_I must be talking to myself._" Roy muttered.

"_I'll ask." _Edward gazed up at Tank. "What do the scans say?"

_'Edward, I think now is the time for you to leave Roy alone.' _Morpheus ordered.

_"What? But I haven't done anything!"_ He whined.

_'I'm sure Dozer will be happy to take you through some learning programs.' _Morpheus glared straight into him, serious, unfazed. Edward sighed and got up from his seat, he made for the door with an agitated glare.

_'I'll see you later, Roy.' _Edward shared his reserved smile, looking back to him, but shot Morpheus his disapproving glare.

'Neo, please escort Edward there, we can't have him disobeying me again.'

Edward growled angrily and stormed from the room with Neo in tow.

-/\*_;)(-

Edward was sat in one of the seats; a plug was immobilized in the socket of his head. Dozer tapped at his keyboard, 'don't be so mad there, little man.' He smiled apologetically, 'I'm sure Morpheus meant well. The new guy needed his rest and all.'

"He wouldn't even tell me what was wrong." He grumbled.

'Wrong?'

"I think there was something wrong with Roy's scans. He wouldn't tell me."

'Maybe that's why he asked you to leave. Maybe Roy didn't want you knowing either. The body's a pretty personal place my friend.'

"How do you figure that?" Edward growled, still in a foul mood.

'You see, when you're a bluepill, the machines are using your bodies as batteries and all for their power. Your body don't belong to you no more, not really. So, when you're a redpill, your body is yours again; it's the one thing those machines can't take from you, not without killing you anyway. You see what I'm sayin'?'

Edward looked downcast, and sighed, "Yeah." He murmured softly.

'Now to cheer you up, how about I take you through some training programs? Would that be better?' Dozer suggested with a hopeful smile.

He couldn't help but let a little smile turn up on his lips. "I guess…"

'See? We're feeling better already; boys and their violence.' He chuckled, he tapped on his keyboard. 'Now, let's start at the beginning. First up, Aikido.'

Edward shut his eyes, ready to learn the program.

Then, Apoc stepped into the top deck.

'We're almost at Zion; we're just a couple of hours away.' He reported.

'Alright, Morpheus is in the recovery room.' Dozer answered.

"Zion?" Edward muttered after a couple of minutes.

'My home city.' Dozer grinned.

"Oh, I remember, Tank told me it was the last human city."

'Sure is, but we're not there yet. Next up, Aiki Jujitsu."

-/\*_;)(-

The old man held a look of calculation as he thought through the events that had been relayed to him. Envy awaited his judgement before him, keeping his distance in a respectful manner. The only thing between them was the step onto the throne and the thick tangle of wires protruding from it.

"So, you saw Edward Elric disappear in a telephone box, correct?"

"Yeah!" Envy nodded rapidly, "Through the receiver, I'm sure!"

"And Roy Mustang is gone also?"

"He went with this guy who took him away in a car. There was another guy as well; he was there when Edward disappeared too."

"And you think Roy Mustang has gone to the same place as Edward?"

"Of course! No doubt about it!"

Father thought this through for a few seconds more, and finally, glanced back down to Envy. "Then, if I am correct, there were some other men there as well."

"Other men...?" Envy tried to think back to the event, before realising what he meant, "Oh, right! There were these guys in suits and sunglasses! They were pretty weird, and they didn't seem human. In fact, I heard them disgrace humans, just like us!"

A small smile appeared on Father's lips, the first one Envy had seen in centuries, and it made his skin crawl to think that such a point could warrant one.

"Then I am correct. I know where our sacrifices have escaped to." Father said as his smile fell away. "This means I know how you can retrieve them Envy, but I'm afraid, the method isn't easy."

"Don't worry, Father! I will get them back, no matter what!" A sadistic grin formed along Envy's face and he cracked his knuckles in preparation.

"Your loyalty is admirable, Envy. I am lucky to have a son like you. But, you will have to forgive me, because, for you to retrieve the sacrifices, I will have to destroy you first."

"...Destroy...me?" The smile dropped.

Father stood up from his thrown and leered down from before Envy. His legs went weak from the man's presence and he fell to his knees. "Have faith in your father, Envy. This will only be temporary." His hand penetrated Envy's chest and he looked up to him, blood pouring from his mouth. His wounds tried to heal, but his force couldn't withstand his father's power. Father wretched his arm out and the form before him turned to dust, all that was left of him was the thick red substance stuck to his fingers. He pulled it off, and immediately it solidified into the form of a red bean.

Blue volts of a transmutation surrounded the bean and it disappeared from his hand. He returned to his throne, sat and let a small smile crease his lips.

"Do not fail me, Envy."

-/\*_;)(-

He kissed her lips with a succulent desire. His back pressed up against the wall, she moaned against the friction. His fingers stroked through her coal black hair, her hands pressed against his waist. She turned them round and they fell upon the bed, her lips needed into his necks, and he shut his eyes breathlessly. The kisses dissipated, he didn't turn up to her, but after minutes of nothing, he glanced back up. She was straddling his hips and her arms were folded with impatience.

'What's wrong?' Neo asked.

'I should be asking you the same thing.' She asked; her voice carried a light sting. 'Is something on your mind?'

'I...' Neo looked away and began to sit up. Trinity shifted herself onto his lap and looked at him in her camouflaged manner of confusion.

'…Neo?'

'...It's nothing.' He breathed finally, looking into her eyes.

'Are you sure?'

'Not really.' He sighed.

'You can tell me what's wrong; you know that, don't you?'

'Of course I know, but... I can't.' He looked away.

'Why not?'

'It's a secret; I promised I wouldn't tell anyone else.' He kissed her neck lightly, 'so, don't worry about it.'

'As long as you don't.' Trinity smiled against his lips.

Neo looked up to her and kissed her lips, his hands brought her closer to his crotch and he kneaded into it appreciatively, 'I won't.'

-/\*_;)(-

The whole room shuddered momentarily. Alphonse's head connected with the wall and he jolted awake. He rubbed his head sleepily, and getting up shakily, stepped for the door of his bedroom. He looked out through it, and found Ghost striding towards him.

"What was that about?" Alphonse blinked and rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

'We're here.' Ghost answered.

"You mean Zion?"

'Yeah, so if I were you, I would collect what little you have and move out.'

"We're not staying here?"

'No, we're going for some accommodation while we fill up on supplies.'

"Alright." Alphonse sighed, "Then let me get my shirt on."

'Don't take too long, we're letting engineers do some repairs on the ship as well.'

Alphonse stepped out from his room now fully clothed. He found the exit out and looked out upon the underground cavern that he seemed to be swallowed in.

_Where the hell...am I?_

Author's note: Da dada la! Chapter 10! Ten chapters finally! I can't even remember when I started this fiction up; it seems like so long ago. Oops, now that makes me sound lazy, like it's taken me this long because I'm procrastinating. To be honest I probably have better things to do right now, but why not be doing this? It's great fun writing these fictions for you guys, plus great practice for me in the long run! Anyway, I want to say thanks to all you guys for reading and reviewing like you have.

Honestly though, we're not finished quite yet! For all those who enjoy reading my Omake's, I've decided that every ten chapters, I will write two or three omakes instead of the traditional one when I'm inspired. Heck, it's one of my thank you presents to all those who read.

I've changed the chapter title name; you're going to have to get use to this happening, otherwise we won't get anyway now, will we? I've started getting into Muse, which I'm surprised I didn't discover before, because I have watched a few twilight films… Anyway, this chapter is called Undisclosed Desires by Muse from the Album The Resistance (the album suits the Matrix well, does it not?) I decided this one would be better because it sounds like a reassuring song from Neo to Edward. The song does suggest that Neo would have to be in love with Ed for this to work, but it does give a sense that he's in full support of it, which he is as of this chapter. These are some of the lyric that stand out to me, "I know you've suffered, but I don't want you to hide," "I want to exorcize the demons from your past," "I want to reconcile the violence in your heart", "You may be a sinner", "You are the one". It's a nice and catchy tune as well, so I can't argue with it. It suits this chapter better than the other one, I think. I could be wrong.

For all those curious readers, I know what is happening in my story! There are no worries to it now! I've got a lot of stuff going on in here, and a lot of things have been pre-referenced by now, so no moaning when the twists come up!

On the beta-reader front though, I have not been able to secure a replacement yet, so all beta-reading is being handled by me. If you find any mistakes in the chapter then let me know! ^^

Hm, I've always thought Apoc seems to resemble Alessandro Juliani, the voice of L, of course, if you don't know what he looks like, he's in Smallville at the moment as Dr Emil Hamilton and he was in Battlestar Galactica as goodness knows who. Juliani is probably the only reason why I watch Smallville. But I still protest, Dozer is definitely the spitting image of Killer Bee from Naruto Shippuden, only with black hair and no sunglasses.

But enough of that. Thank you for reading, and as always, keep reviewing.

As an extra note, Chapter 11 should be out in two weeks. Of course, I would've said sooner, such as in a week's time, but since you got two omakes at the end of this story; I thought it would be worth making you wait a little. Besides, we're heading for Zion now and it's a fairly long journey! There, two weeks delay because of the change of locale. It's not because I need time to write chapter 11 because it's already finished. It's to give me chance to get to chapter 16 in the writing. I need to stay chapters ahead of you all or I get stressed.

Thank you for reading, your reviews and all of your support!

Ophelia Davis

/tmp/uploads/FF_1442475_ 8of8 at 04:56:43 on21/06/2012 King Edward VII School


	11. Ignorance

"_Ignorance, the root and stem of all evil." - Plato_

It was good to see him again; he was looking more like his former self. Muscles were forming nicely beneath his skin; the needles had done their job and had been removed. He wasn't looking as pale as before. Edward stared down at him from his seat; it was ok to stare this time, he was asleep after all.

'There's no need to worry about him anymore.' Tank smiled, watching him from his monitor by the table side. 'We'll be able to move him to his own room soon.'

"You've certainly done a good job on him." Edward smiled with gratitude.

'Well, it's not like I've not done this before.'

The door opened and Edward turned to face Morpheus.

'We're just a few minutes away from Zion. Once they drop the dock's shield, we need to be ready to get off.'

"We need to get off the ship? How come?"

'We need to let the engineers repair the damage that you caused, remember? Unless you'd rather that Apoc and Switch freeze in the cock-pit?' Morpheus raised a questioning eyebrow.

"No, of course not." Edward sighed. "Then what about Roy?"

'I'll be staying here to watch him.' Tank answered.

"Alright." Edward nodded gratefully.

-/\*_;)(-

Mouse jumped around excitedly. 'Zion! Zion! We're almost at Zion!'

"Will you calm down?" Edward frowned; he was waiting at the door of the ship, ready for the ship to make its landing. Neo and Trinity were waiting nearby, surrounded by bags on the floor.

'Why aren't you excited? This is Zion! The _last human city!' _

"I know it's the last human city, but it's just a city! It's not going anyway!" He made ready to throttle the jumpy teen where he stood.

'How can you be so sure?' Morpheus asked, walking up from behind.

"What do you mean?"

'This is the last human city, because all other cities have been wiped out by the machines. The only reason this city has survived the last 100 years is because the machines haven't found it yet, but it's only a matter of time before the machines will find us, invade and even destroy this city. That's why the Resistance exists and we have you and Neo to help us.'

Edward looked down out of his steely gaze when suddenly a sensation of weightlessness pervaded him. He felt like his stomach had jumped into his throat.

"What's happening?"

'We're going down!' Neo grinned at Edward's helplessness.

The ship shuddered as it halted suddenly, minutes later, it descended once again and halted finally. The door began to open to form the ramp for the exit.

'Ok! Everyone to a bag!' Neo called. Each member grabbed one and Mouse ran excited down the ramp. Edward followed and stepped down it carefully; he stared down the large cavern, all around was an electric blue glow, illuminating the rows of guns and turrets based along a long corridor. He stared about the place with awe.

'You like it?' Morpheus smiled.

"So this is Zion?"

'Not quite, this is just the entryway _into _Zion. This is The Dock, where hovercrafts are received and also part of our defence system. It's the only entrance into Zion, so if machines attack, we'll know about it.'

"The place looks heavily guarded to say it hasn't been attacked before." He smiled.

'As I said before, it's only a matter of time. Anyway, with the damage you caused, they'll be plenty of time to show you around Zion; we have some business to attend to.'

"We do?" Edward asked, but Morpheus called out to Mouse.

'Yes boss?' Mouse chirped.

"Take mine and Edward's bag. We've got some business to attend to." Morpheus put his bag on the floor, and Edward did the same.

'What kind of business?' Mouse asked excitedly as he hefted them up on his back. 'Won't you need Neo?'

'This doesn't concern Neo; we'll let you know when we get back.' Morpheus began to retreat from Mouse and Edward followed behind.

"Business that doesn't concern Neo? Now you have to tell me what it's about!" Edward grinned.

'Naturally.' Morpheus chuckled at the teenager's excitement. 'Now that the existence of the Beta-Matrix has become known to other operators who share our network line, I have to introduce you formerly to the Supreme Council as the first citizen of your matrix to be freed.'

"So I guess that makes me pretty important?"

'In a way, but how this introduction goes could be what forms the reputation of your world. If this goes badly, then all preceding citizens of your world may not even be taken into the city of Zion. Of course, that would be the worst case scenario, but you can see how important this is.'

"Then the Supreme Council must be the equivalent of the Top Brass in my matrix."

'Exactly.'

"Way to put pressure on me." Edward frowned.

'Don't worry, and don't be nervous, it'll be over before you know it. If you do well, then I'll let you visit the Colonel before we settle into our accommodation.' Morpheus smiled reassuringly.

"Couldn't we just sleep in the ship?"

'Not while the engineers are working, besides, wouldn't you want to sleep in a proper bed for once? It'll be much better for you than staying cramped up in your cabin.'

"I guess so."

'Come on.' Morpheus smiled.

Reaching the end of the corridor, they found a much larger cavern. Inside, rows up on rows of large mud wall buildings were visible. Above them the cavern's ceiling seemed to stretch up for miles, the ceiling was enveloped in a shroud of darkness that could only be seen through personal investigation and an attempt at scaling the walls of your own accordance.

He remembered the voice that had perpetrated his dream so long before, _Are you afraid of what might be on the other side? Don't be. Open it, and find the answer. _He stopped walking.

'Edward?' Morpheus stopped walking and turned to him.

"I can remember seeing this place in a dream." Edward answered slowly. "I saw these caverns and everyone was dancing at the bottom, but then, the machines invaded through the walls and…"

_Killed me._

'Edward?'

"Do you think, that maybe I've put everyone in danger by coming here?" Edward asked.

'Edward,' Morpheus sighed, 'I brought you out of your matrix because I felt sure that you could help us in the fight against the machines. I knew that there were risks in bringing you out, as there is with every bluepill that leaves the Matrix, and took full responsibility. The events that have taken place because of your arrival have happened because they were meant to happen.'

"Even Cypher's death?"

'If you hadn't had disobeyed me, Cypher's true colours would've been revealed, possibly at the cost of the lives of the see, Cypher was brought out of the Matrix because I thought he was The One. The Oracle told him he wasn't, and he's remained in our crew ever since. Incidentally, this wasn't long before Neo was released from the Matrix himself. I should've known he would one day take some drastic action, possibly because he felt Neo stole his thunder, but I didn't take any action because I had faith that he would help us still. If any of the crew had died at his hands, then I would've taken full responsibility for his actions, as I was the one to take him out of the Matrix. It's the same as if you were to kill someone on the ship. I would take responsibility for your murder, as it was my fault from the start that you're among us.'

"Then, you're taking responsibility for Cypher's death because of me?" Edward asked.

'Cypher was killed by a machine. It was a tragic loss and yet just a fragment of the giant example that is the machine's true terror.' Morpheus winked and Edward brightened up with a hopeful smile. 'Just remember, whatever happens to us and to Zion, I have no regrets about the choices I have made. I believe that the war will be brought to an end at the hands of you and Neo, and that's all I need to know so that, if we die, at least we died trying.' Morpheus patted his head and they continued on their path.

-/\*_;)(-

They were walking through a great corridor, having entered the largest building that Zion could offer, and easily the most grand. Along the white plaster walls were great portraits of past council members, and Edward stared upon them with some interest. Finally, they came upon great blue doors and Morpheus motioned him to stop.

'Before we enter I will tell them you're here, but remember: Be polite, no rude manners, gestures or words of any kind and speak when spoken to. These are very highly respectable people after all; you could say they are the joint rulers of Zion.' Morpheus went for the door, 'wait here.'

Morpheus knocked on the door, and once summoned by a grand, old voice, entered. Edward leaned against a wall, waiting as his stomach did somersaults.

-/\*_;)(-

'Morpheus? What are _you _doing here?' The man turned towards him from before the arched table of the Supreme Council with a deep look of disgust. But Morpheus turned to the arched table and bowed to the Supreme Council.

'Morpheus, what is the meaning of this return?' An old, white-haired man asked of him.

'If I may, Councillor Hamman, I would like to introduce to the council the first citizen of the Beta-Matrix to be freed.'

'The Beta-Matrix? What kind of absurd-?' The man blurted.

'If you don't mind, Commander Lock, I was speaking to Councillor Hamman, not you.' Morpheus shot him, a small smirk, but rectified it as he turned back to the Council.

'Morpheus, I was just addressing a proposal to the Supreme Council for all hovercrafts to be returned to The Dock.' Commander Lock glared at him.

'Can it wait, Lock?' A councillor asked.

'But this is an important decision! With each attack the machines impose on our ships, the closer they are to Zion!'

'Yes, but they are not likely to attack right now, are they?' Councillor Hamman smiled broadly. 'I have been hearing from other operators about this new Beta-Matrix. Please, Morpheus, bring him in.'

'Thank you.' Morpheus nodded, and he opened the door at the side of the room from which he'd entered.

-/\*_;)(-

'Edward, the council will see you now.' Morpheus had poked his head through the door, and Edward walked quickly to enter through. As he entered the room, he looked upon it with a measure of awe and curiosity. The walls were a grey plaster, resembling the metal of the hovercraft walls and as he turned to face them, there was a great arch table at which twelve members in all sat. Behind them were tall translucent windows. Upon seeing them all, staring at him expectantly, he hurriedly bowed for them and spoke nervously,

"I'm honoured to make your acquaintances."

'The pleasure is all ours.' The white-haired man smiled. 'I am Councillor Hamman, and you are?'

"E-Edward Elric, sir." Before him, two councillors murmured to each other and he looked at them and gulped. They must be talking about him, he was sure they were talking about him. What could they be saying?

'You don't need to look so nervous.' Hamman chuckled, 'Calm down, you should feel right at home here. Now, tell me, how old are you?'

"Sixteen, sir."

'Sixteen! My, you're already a man.'

'What is your homeland like? What can you tell us about it?' A deep skinned man on the table asked, he was different to Hamman, he had brown afro hair and a beard. Edward was already imagining Morpheus with the same hair do and facial feature, and it made him smile inwardly, almost like he could burst out laughing. It eased his anxiety.

"I come from a village in the east of Amestris called Resembool. It's mostly countryside, with farming as its main resource and it's quiet." He smiled. "Of course, if it weren't for the Ishbalan Civil War that had started 14 years ago, I'm sure Resembool would have developed into a town."

'Yes,' Hamman answered, 'as always the ravages of war are severe and soul destroying. No matter the country or Matrix, the effects are inarguably the same, as I'm sure we can both agree. What were the reasons for the war's beginning?'

"A child, sir. An Amestrian soldier of the State Military shot and killed a child and it caused uproar from the Ishbalan side. There had always been a friction of culture and religion between us and the Ishbalans, though we were neighbours in the same country. The child's death was all that was needed to start the war."

'Then it is fair that I tell you how the war between humans and machines began.' He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts. 'It began upon the invention of Artificial Intelligence and the birth of the first robots. They were used to replace labourers, and as we were able to live easy lives, we did not treat the robots with respect. As they grew more intelligent, they began to notice this. The peace between us went on for some time until a housekeeper robot attacked and killed its human masters when it realized they were planning on scrapping him for a newer model. Many peaceful demonstrations later and many robots left their masters to create the Machine City 01. They still didn't get the respect they deserved and it grew into an all-out war. The war itself lasted for nearly a hundred years, but it was the machines that came out the victors.'

Edward, having listened and taken it in, thought for a moment, "Then the result of the war must be why the Resistance itself exists." He reasoned.

'Yes, Zion began when the One freed the first of us. But, let's have no more of this morbid chatter, I'm sure you must be bored already by our history.'

"Not at all, I don't want to be ignorant of the forces we're up against or its history."

Hamman smiled, 'You are certainly a knowledgeable young man.'

'Honestly Morpheus, why did you bring this _boy _out of his Matrix? What purpose could he possibly serve?' Commander Lock glared from the wall side where he was leaning and leered at Edward.

'Yes, why did you free him from the Beta-Matrix? Surely he was happier there than getting mixed up unnecessarily in our war.' An old woman stated and Edward turned to her. She was thin and dressed in a lilac coat, her hair was grey and decorated with a purple and red fake- flower headdress. There was a twinge of familiarity in her voice and appearance that he wasn't likely to shake off.

'Upon discovering the Beta-matrix,' Morpheus began, 'I conducted some meetings with the Oracle, where she confirmed for me that the One existed there as it did for the Matrix we already know, and I'm sure that the Oracle has confirmed for Edward that he is that One, although, his purposes are different to Neo's.'

'It seems that Neo's novelty has already begun to wear off. Obviously he has not quite lived up to his expectations and you wanted to start anew with someone else. You're faith in Neo must be wavering.'

'On the contrary, _Jason_, it is stronger than before. You see, with both Edward and Neo working together, I believe we have assured our victory over the machines. After all, two sticks are harder to break than one.'

'But even two sticks can be broken one at a time.' Commander Lock sneered.

'But what does Edward say, to this duty he has been forced into?' The woman eyed Edward expectantly; putting aside Commander Lock's depreciated comments.

"At first, I felt I was being forced, but I've come to realise how grateful I am to Morpheus. He saved my life when the Agents attacked me and my brother, and I have come to fully accept my duty in helping the resistance against the machines. It's the least I can do for what Morpheus has done for me." Edward looked up to Morpheus, smiling, and Morpheus returned it.

'Then we fully accept your help against the machines in the future.' Councillor Hamman smiled gratefully. 'Now, as for your request, Commander Lock, I believe the Council was telling you before that the request has been given far too soon. The machines have not found Zion's location, and so we would like to respectfully decline your request. Are we all in favour?' The majority of the councillors put their hand up, 'Your request has been overruled.' He picked up a gavel by his side and banged it upon the table. 'That is all.'

Morpheus gave a self-satisfied smile and Commander Lock's face contorted with anger.

'But sir-!'

'I have given my word, did you not hear me? That is _all_!' Councillor Hamman ordered. 'You may leave now. It has been a pleasure meeting you Edward, and we hope to hear of your achievements in the future.' He smiled expectantly at him, and Edward bowed.

"Thank you, Councillor." And he left the room with Morpheus by his side once he had given his bow.

Outside of the room, Edward sighed heavily and leaned back against the wall.

"Phew!" He laughed, almost giddy, "I'm glad _that's _over!"

'You should be proud of yourself, you did very well.' Morpheus smiled, patting his back.

"You think so?" he breathed.

'Of course, you were polite, you spoke in a level-headed manner and you certainly impressed Councillor Hamman, West and Dillard! We don't need to worry anymore; your people will be granted a safe passage into Zion should anymore be freed in the future.' Morpheus smiled reassuringly. 'Come on, I'll take you back to the Nebuchadnezzar.'

The doors behind them opened suddenly and slammed shut. The angry footsteps of Commander Lock were closing in on them. Morpheus and Edward turned to face him.

'You, Morpheus, just cost me my appeal!' Lock roared. 'Everything was going fine until you showed up with that golden boy of yours!'

'As Hamman told you, they were about to decline your request anyway.' Morpheus frowned, 'It wasn't our fault.'

'What brings you back to Zion anyway? At least if the request had gone through I would've been ready for you, but now of all times? What is the meaning of this? I thought you were busy with the One?'

'I was, but our hovercraft was in need of repairs.' Morpheus replied icily.

'Your golden boy must be a loose cannon, am I right?' Commander Lock smirked. Edward snarled at him. 'Ah, so I _am _right. You have always had the worst choice in bluepills, Morpheus; you couldn't even bring _your entire_ golden boy out.' He eyed the artificial hand that he had spotted from the sleeve of Edward's shirt, 'He'll be useless to the Resistance. I'm starting to think you picked him out of _pity_.'

"Useless?_" _Edward screamed, he wanted to dive for the Commander, but Morpheus held him back, his arms securing themselves around Edward's waist.

'Calm down Edward!' Morpheus ordered.

"You come over _here _and say that! I'll show you useless!" He roared after the Commander, but Lock laughed at his correctness.

'Once again, Morpheus, he's a loose cannon. An animal that needs caging up, don't you agree? In the future, I would be more careful about the pets you pick, because I'm sure you picked up a dirty stray mutt.'

Edward struggled harder against Morpheus's strength. He wanted that man silenced, anything to stop him spewing his ignorant trash. His arms were stretching for any kind of reach towards his face, but Morpheus included them in his grip. Everything but his legs was restrained. Commander Lock gave a satisfied smile and he walked towards them, grabbing Edward's chin by his index finger and thumb.

'Yes, his eyes are a tell-tale sign, Morpheus; I would've expected you to be more observant. Amber, like a dog's, honestly, how could you make such a careless mistake?' He glared at Morpheus, who stared at him hard. Suddenly, he yelped, and he found Edward with his fingers between his teeth. He crunched down harder on them, and the Commander beat him across the face. Edward relinquished his fingers, spitting blood onto the floor.

"You forgot that this dog has teeth." Edward growled.

'Animal!' Commander Lock spat. His fingers were bleeding, and he wiped the blood away on his trousers. 'I don't want to see any more of _your _dogs among the good people of Zion! God forbid should your poison spread and intoxicate our ranks! Your mangled offspring would be easy prey to the machines!'

"Ha! Coming from me, that's not going to happen!" Edward scoffed, "I have better things to do with my time than to cavort with _your _sluts!"

'You may have won against me this time, Morpheus, but remember:' He neared closer to Morpheus until they were side by side, his mouth close to his ear, 'I still have your prize, and there's no way you can win it back, not while you're playing daddy to the One and your golden _mutt_.' He slunk away before Morpheus could react.

"Bastard." Edward growled as Morpheus released him.

'Leave him, Edward, he's not worth it.' Morpheus sighed, 'Let's head back.'

-/\*_;)(-

"Wow! This place is amazing!"Alphonse grinned. He looked out from the balcony of his accommodations, holding onto the rail and laughing giddily.

Suddenly, he felt himself tipping over the edge and he was quickly pulled backed.

'Saved your life!' Sparks laughed.

"Don't do that!" Al squealed and he backed into the room proper. He collapsed himself onto a bed next to Ghost.

'Anyway, Al,' Sparks began, 'Ghost and I were thinking, and we've decided that, now you're a member of the Logos, we're going to give you a hacker name.'

"A hacker name? I feel so accepted!" Al grinned happily, "So, what were you guys thinking of?"

'Well, we thought you should be called...Reggie!' Sparks announced; Ghost rolled his eyes at him.

"...Reggie?" He uttered.

'What? You don't like it?' Sparks smile faded.

"No, no, I like it, it's just...I get the feeling you guys aren't very imaginative." He laughed nervously.

'Well what do you expect after being stuck in a hovercraft for months on end?' Sparks laughed.

"I guess you've got a point." Alphonse turned to the woman leaning against the wall by the door, and asked, "Captain, do I look like a Reggie to you?"

She thought for a moment, considering it lightly, 'As long as you are helping us fight the machines, I would call you anything.' She smiled, but finally she sighed, 'I'm going out for some fresh air. Alphonse, I'm leaving you in charge of the bozos.' She stepped out and shut the door behind her.

"I'm in charge?"

'You sure are, Reggie!' Sparks grinned.

"That's _Captain _Reggie to you!"

-/\*_;)(-

As Edward and Morpheus passed by a building, a woman exited it, making her way towards them. She glanced downwards at her feet as she passed them, but Morpheus stopped and turned towards her.

'Niobe?' He called in questioning, and she turned towards him, stopped in her tracks.

'Morpheus?' She spoke and she walked towards them, 'What are you doing here?'

'Your Commander was asking the same question.' Morpheus answered, Edward wondered whether he could detect any spite in his voice from the stings of earlier, but couldn't find any.

'You ran into Commander Lock?'

'The very same.'

'I guess I must apologize on his behalf.' She sighed. 'It's a shame that it's becoming a habit.'

'Please, save yourself the trouble.' Morpheus smiled lightly. 'He can apologize for his own mistakes, of course, his biggest one being that he lets _you _do all the leg work for him.' But she dismissed his intentions.

'How long are you going to be in Zion?'

'Until our ship is repaired, we ran into some machines and lost a crew member along the way.'

'I'm sorry to hear that.' She answered without sympathy. Her strong straightforward tone was a reminder to Edward, and he gulped in remembering who such a voice could've belonged to once before. _She's just like Teacher!_

She looked down into Edward's eyes curiously and back up at Morpheus.

'Is this a new crew member?' She asked.

'Yes, we found him upon the discovery of the Beta-Matrix. I'm sure you've heard about it, right?'

'Yes, Sparks has come across it too. But you do know that the Supreme Council will have to hear of him.' She spoke carefully.

'We've just come back from there; incidentally that was where we ran into the Commander as well. He was requesting that all of Zion's ships be returned to the Dock to promote the defence forces.'

'He's going to have some trouble getting that one past the councillors.'

'Indeed, he already has.' Morpheus chuckled; Edward smiled broadly to remember the man's humiliation.

'What is your name, young man?' She asked, bending a little and offering her hand.

"Edward."

'Do all of your people have gold eyes like yours?' She asked, an eyebrow rose curiously.

"Not especially." Edward growled.

'I see.' She nodded, 'Anyway, I'd better go and find Jason before he causes more trouble.' She sighed, 'It was nice seeing you again.' She left the pair back in the direction she was going and they both carried on their way.

"Is she going out with that Lock bastard?" Edward asked.

'You caught on to that? Well, yes she is, sadly.' Morpheus smiled.

"He doesn't deserve her." Edward scowled.

'I can't help but feel that same way, but not everything in life is fair.' He sighed.

"I can see why you like her though," Edward smiled, "She kind of looks like her from the magazines. You know, Halle Berry."

Morpheus chuckled, 'Yes, I believe she does.'

-/\*_;)(-

On their ship, engineers were climbing about its top with tools in their hands, their beams made sparks that skittered across the top and down onto the metal floor of the dock. Edward watched them work as he and Morpheus walked towards the ramp of the ship. Seeing them, he couldn't help but think of the auto-mail engineers at home.

Inside the ship, Edward rushed for the recovery room, and there he found Roy trying to sit up and Tank holding him by the shoulders.

"How's he doing?" Edward asked eagerly.

'Great, but I wish I could communicate with him. I've been trying to get him to put some clothes on, but he just keeps talking nonsense.' He sighed.

"Let me talk to him." He looked to Roy, and spoke in Amestrian, "_Tank wants you to get some clothes on."_

_"Honestly?" _Roy laughed, _"I thought he wanted me to get up or something. I was wondering why he wanted me to walk around naked."_

_"Don't worry about it, you just sit there and we'll see to it." _He turned to Tank, "Where are the clothes he's got to put on?"

'They're on that stool behind you.' Behind him, Edward found a large, red, flannel shirt and a pair of black trousers and shorts. By the stool there were a pair of shoes and Edward collected them up in a bundle and placed them on Roy's lap.

_"Thanks." _Roy murmured, _"But do you think you guys could give me some privacy while I change?"_

_"Y-Yeah, sure." _He began to blush again, and he hid his face away as he made a quick exit from the room.

'_We'll leave you to it.' _Morpheus smiled, 'Come on, Tank.' He grabbed Tank's shoulder and led him away.

Minutes later, Roy stepped unsteadily where he found Edward, Morpheus and Tank waiting patiently outside.

_"How do they fit?" _Edward asked.

_"Great!" _Roy smiled gratefully. _"But, walking's still hard."_

_'You've been laid down awhile, and you're using your legs for the first time.' _Morpheus smiled with understanding.

_"Fantastic, I feel like a kid again." _Roy scowled sarcastically. _"Anyway, where's everyone else?"_

_"They've gone to their accommodations. Come on, I'll lead the way." _Morpheus answered. Together, they helped Roy up the ladder and they met the ramp. _'I'll support you from here, Roy. _Tank, you don't have to stay with us anymore, your brother must be visiting his family. They'll want to see you too.' He smiled to Tank.

'Well, if you're sure you don't need me anymore. See you later, guys!' Tank waved his good byes and ran from the dock in a hurry, a smile spread along his face.

-/\*_;)(-

The door opened and Mouse, Neo and Trinity looked up expectantly. Morpheus, with Roy at his shoulder, stepped in clumsily and smiles were clear all around. Edward followed in close behind, staying by the doorway.

'Pull him up a chair.' Morpheus ordered and Mouse jumped up from off the bed and set a chair down by the wall. Roy collapsed into it, huffing from exhaustion.

_"I-Is this place really big,"_ He breathed, _"Or did we go the long way round?"_

_'No, it's just really big.'_ Morpheus chuckled, _'This is the shortest route I could think of.'_

_"It needs more thinking." _Roy scowled.

_'Anyway, welcome to the crew.' _Neo smiled, offering his hand, _'It's great to see you're finally off that table.'_

_"Thanks," _Roy shook it, _"Is this everyone?"_

_'No, two of our operators, Tank and Dozer are visiting their families and Switch and Apoc, actually, where are they?' _Morpheus asked.

_'They're in the room next door.' _Neo answered.

_"I'll fetch them." _Edward offered and he left the room.

_'Ok, let's start with introductions.' _Morpheus began, _'the kid sat on the bed is Mouse. He is our expert computer programmer who assists in creating training programs for us.' _

_"Pleasure." _Roy shook Mouse's hand.

'What did he say?' Mouse asked, looking up to Morpheus.

_'As you'll have noticed, Mouse doesn't speak Amestrian; the only ones who do are I, Neo and Edward obviously. Until we leave Zion, you'll only have us to converse with; but carrying on.' _He motioned to Neo, _'You've already met Neo. He isn't necessarily a computer programmer for us, although he does have some skill, but he is very important to us. I'm sure you'll both get on well.' _

Edward, Switch and Apoc came back into the room, and Morpheus nodded at the acknowledgement of their presence.

_"And who is this?" _Roy got out of his seat and stepped to Trinity, bowing and kissing her hand; she blushed but snatched it away. _"Don't be so rash, it is an honour to meet you." _He grinned smoothly.

_'This is my girlfriend, Trinity.' _Neo accentuated it pointedly as he pulled her close with his arm. _'You can't have her.' _

Roy smirked, _"Very well. She's off limits, but for how long?" _He chuckled. Edward, watching from the wall, made an audible sigh of disappointment. Neo caught it on the air, and gave him a sympathetic look.

_'As you now know, this is Trinity.' _Morpheus smiled, _'She is first-mate aboard our ship, so you shall acknowledge her higher rank, and should show her respect accordingly. You will also do well to acknowledge that she's not free to hit on. Neo will make that perfectly clear in case you forget.' _He motioned for Roy to turn and he was facing Edward, Switch and Apoc. He smiled and nodded to Edward, who smiled back. _'This man is Apoc.'_

_"Which one?" _Roy asked, _"Him?" _He pointed to Switch.

Neo snorted a laugh.

_'No,' _Morpheus strode over to the man stood by Switch. _'This is Apoc. He has many duties on board our ship, but primarily he serves as the main driver of the Nebuchadnezzar.' _He motioned to Switch. _'This is Switch. She is also a driver of the Nebuchadnezzar, and as such both she and Apoc take shifts. I'll also point out that she isn't free either; she is with Apoc.' _

Roy grumbled inaudible curses of free women being near impossible to find, and Edward chuckled at his reaction.

_'I'll assume you already know Edward. On board the ship, he is also important to us, just as Neo is, but as of late he has been demoted to the position of the ship's janitor. All cleaning duties are his responsibility, so feel free to walk over him a little; put him in his place.' _Morpheus winked.

_"Of course, not like that was hard to do in the first place." _Roy quipped.

_"Hey! I heard that!" _Edward howled and Roy laughed.

_"May I ask why he's been demoted?" _Roy asked.

_'He failed to follow my orders, and as a result we lost a crew member. He's still being punished.' _Morpheus informed.

_"Why does that not surprise me?" _Roy sighed, _"When he was working under me, he was disobeying me left, right and centre. Of course, I decided against punishment because he seemed to have a miraculous gift for his disobedience tending to work in our favour."_

_'Well, this time his disobedience wasn't so miraculous.'_

_"Clearly." _Roy frowned.

'Now that introductions are out of the way, let's sort out sleeping arrangements. There are two double beds in each room and there are eight among us.' He nodded to Switch and Apoc. 'If you two are already settled in, you can take a bed next door.'

'Alright.' Switch nodded. 'We'll see you guys later. Nice meeting you again by the way.' She shook hands with Roy but he was stuck for an answer. The couple left and so began the arrangements.

'It'll be Trinity and Neo to a bed, then Edward and Mouse and finally myself and Roy.'

Roy perked at the use of his name.

_"You're sharing a bed with Morpheus."_ Edward translated.

_"What? Me and the big guy?"_

_"Yeah, but trust me, I doubt they'll be any funny business." _Edward grinned.

_"I hope not."_

'Trinity, would you rather share a room with Switch and Apoc, or stay here?'

'I'll stay here.' She nodded and sat down at the bed behind her.

'Very well, then Edward and Mouse can take the room next door. Is that ok?' He asked Edward, who sighed and nodded.

_"I'll see you later then." _Edward smiled at Roy who returned the gesture. He left and stepped into the next room.

He scowled at Switch and Apoc, who were making themselves comfortable on the bed they had chosen. It was clear then that Mouse and Edward's bed would be right by the door, and right next to any possible drafts.

"You guys better not be doing any funny stuff," Edward frowned as he sat on his bed.

'What ever could you mean?' Switch teased.

"I mean with you two in bed together; anything could happen."

'Same goes for you and Mouse.'

"As if anything would-." Suddenly, the door opened and a weight catapulted itself into him. He was sprawled now on the bed with the attacker straddling his hips.

'We're going to have _so much fun!_' Mouse screamed with glee as he was balanced on top of him, but was quickly silenced as Edward pushed him away.

"You can stay on the floor!" Edward ordered.

-/\*_;)(-

He pulled himself from underneath the covers and he rubbed his eyes blurrily. Pulling on his shirt and shoes he stepped out from his room. He left the building; the air was cool against his skin and the ground dry and dusty against the soles of his shoes. Before him there was a rail, protecting him from a fall into the deep cavern below. In it great metal tanks, heat and steam were boiling away, clanking and humming the hardly soothing hymn of Zion. He sighed lowly, this wasn't his home after all, but there was nothing much he could do but get used to it. He was already aware, Spark had told him many days ago, there was no true way he could return; only as an entity and illusion to ones who knew him, and for strangers, a brief person that they wouldn't care to know personally.

He rested his chin against the cool metal. Here, forever, there, briefly. What choice did he have? How could he make an opportunity for a third choice? Ha, what third choice?

-/\*_;)(-

_What you've done to me…It's inhumane…I should hate you…DESPISE you for what you've done…and yet…I find myself…connected…completely tangled…trapped even…but I can't…pull myself free…this force…it's maddening…and cruel…your touch…torturous…I should get away…resist you…but…how can I…? _

He started awake; the whispered words still lingered on the air of his mind. Their master's voice low and familiar, and yet, they were new and unheard of. It was a state he'd never heard it in. It scared him.

His mind was becoming more alert now; the warmth that had pressed itself into his back as the master of those words spoke was still present. Not a lingering figment, but a disturbing reality. He turned quickly to find Mouse spooning into him as he breathed deeply and slowly in his ear. Mouse groaned finally and an arm heaved itself heavily around him, as if weighed down. He rolled his eyes and pushed the arm from on top of him and pulled his cover away. He clambered over the bed and tip-toed for the door; he made his escape into the cool night air. He was on the balcony, or rather, something akin to a long corridor that railed itself around the building and connected to each new room and the balconies below by a series of ladders.

He glanced down towards the cavern of machinery that seemed so far away from his feet. He would have to jump to his death to make it anywhere close to the cavern, but that was a menial sacrifice just for a closer glance. It wasn't worth any risk in the world.

A figure stood by the rail that guarded others from the cavern, a sort of golden dot from where he stood. It seemed almost ghostly, as all other people he had seen in this place were either darker in complexion or old and greying. He leaned further over his rail, trying for that closer look, wondering if it would be worth it to drop from the rail to find out the identity of the impossible ghost. A door suddenly clicked open behind him, and he righted himself and turned for the new figure.

Roy stepped out to the rail, smiling towards him. He glanced upwards, before finally a low chuckle escaped his dry throat.

"_What's so funny?" _Edward asked curiously.

"_When I woke up just now, I was sure this had all been a dream and I was back in my apartment. When I found Morpheus by my side, I had convinced myself that the man was just a drunken encounter that I would surely regret in the morning. I stepped out here, and found it odd that my apartment had such a big balcony," _

"_Your apartment's too crap to have a balcony." _Edward smiled memorably.

"_Yeah," _Roy chuckled,_ "And when I looked up, I was sure I was looking up into a starless sky. That's when I thought to myself, a starless sky? I'm sure that's impossible. I found the large cavern walls and realised that the sky I was supposedly looking into was a reminder, that despite this being the true reality, our eyes are still too primitive to see into the dark crevices of the cavern roof where our human selves can't possibly reach or belong." _He sighed finally, _"This is the real life. I've just woken up from a dream, haven't I?" _He looked to him from the corner of his eyes, waiting for the confirmation he needed.

"_Yeah, this is reality." _Edward nodded and Roy turned back to look out into the city before him; the great buildings that rose and fell like the waves of the sea, of which its people hadn't seen in so long. Despite the supposed night time of this place, it was partially lit by the orange glow of the deep cavern below and the scantly lit windows of the buildings before them. Even fewer were the lit torches that had been lit along the man-made streets of Zion.

"_This place, it's beautiful in its own amazing way. It reminds me of Central, does it you?"_

Edward nodded in agreement, _"It's so big, I doubt I've seen everything of it yet; it wouldn't surprise me if that were true." _He glanced towards Roy, but Roy didn't face him, he continued to look out distantly.

"_Why do you think they call this the last human city?" _He asked finally.

"_This reality has been ravaged by a war between humans and machines, and despite the best efforts of man, machines have a hold over them and have beaten them back underground. I would say that hardly 10% of human life is still left on this Earth. No, maybe even 5; possibly less than that." _Roy winced a little, but persuaded a small smile to form his lips.

"_So are you saying that the engine of my car will one day revolt against humanity and try to kills us?"_

"_No, it's already happened." _Edward stated forlornly, and Roy's persuasive argument had failed to win out; it dropped away in defeat.

"_Edward," _He turned his whole body to face him. Edward responded by facing him proper. _"Why did you bring me out of my old reality?" _His face was serious, that smile was definitely gone. _"The message on my window, those suit-wearing killing machines, why any of it?" _Edward looked downcast, his heart was thrumming loudly. To answer him honestly was to bear his soul. He knew that well, so much so that he wanted to escape from this interrogation. But there was no way out. He couldn't run away. He owed him an explanation. Roy's face creased into rage, _"Who were the ones that died for me? Huh?" _Edward winced, his mouth opened, stuttering on noises. _"Witnesses!" _Roy answered for him, _"Innocent people who were uninvolved and they're dead! How am I worth all of those people? It doesn't add up! You know that better than anyone! Well?" _He seethed furiously, _"Why?"_

He couldn't muster the sound or the strength to answer him fully. Roy's narrow eyes narrowed further and glared into his very soul, the very strength of them stole away his energy until he could feel his morale beginning to crumble. The result of it seeped into his eyes. He wanted to turn away and hide his hot flushed face, but he was aware that those eyes were still on him. He couldn't bear to let Roy see him cry, yet the older man's gaze was inescapable.

_"You can't even face your own convictions, can you?" _Roy growled finally, _"you can carry through a plan, I'll give you that, yet you haven't the strength to face up to your own consequences. To think, for the past four years I was commanding a coward. True, you have the gall to disobey me, but even now you try and run from it like a scared and guilty child." _His words weighed heavy on Edward's soul and stung him to the core. _"Coward." _He snorted the stinging word finally and turned for the door of his room. Edward's heart jumped suddenly, he had to redeem himself.

_"I promised myself before you got here that I would answer you honestly." _Edward called, and Roy was stopped in his tracks, but he didn't turn. His hand grasped the handle of the door. _"The reason I did all this was because I …I-I…" _Roy turned to face him, looking over him with a curious concentration as Edward stumbled and choked on his words. Edward's flush was beginning to spread through to the contours of his hairline. Roy could feel his cheeks beginning to smoulder in an almost heated embarrassment, afraid that he might hear the words that could be uttered. "_I…I missed you!" _Edward blurted finally. He looked up to Roy's eyes from his downcast gaze, but was faced with a rage he hadn't seen before now; he could feel the air of disgust radiating from him. Edward was ready to hear him scream.

_"All that…" _Roy uttered, _"All that sacrifice, all that risk…all because of selfish nostalgia... All because_ _you missed me." _He shot him a glare of absolute disdain and disgust, "_You're pathetic. You make me sick." _He spat and he turned back to the door and entered his room quietly.

His hot flush drove his emotions out of control and tears glistened down his cheeks as he hugged the rail and sobbed. He had resigned himself to this defeat, he was sure he could take it if the Colonel should shoot him down, but this wasn't a simple no thanks. This was hatred; he was sure, in its purest form, a hatred that was almost silent, but burned like hell's bonfires. He wanted to say he'd seen this coming, but that was nothing compared to this. The words had punctured him like a red hot bullet, and the wound was sure to fester. Fester, until he was no more.

His tears dropped heavily down his cheeks to the dusty ground of Zion's sands, and his eyes looked back to where the ghost had been standing. It was gone, scared by the shouts of hatred in the air. Even a ghost of goodwill could be scared away by misfortune. His goodwill was gone.

A door opened behind him, and light footsteps told him the stranger was small. He quickly wiped the tears away to face the figure. Mouse was stood behind him.

"Mouse, what are you doing up?" He asked, smiling falsely.

'I heard someone shouting outside.' He yawned, 'couldn't tell what they were saying, but it woke me up.'

"Oh, sorry." Edward apologized.

'It's fine.' But the smile fell as he peered in closer to him. 'Have you been crying?' Mouse asked.

"W-What?" Edward rubbed away the residue of his tears, hoping the redness of his cheeks would quickly fade and prove him wrong. "N-No, just tired still. I've been yawning a lot, you know?" He tried to laugh his sadness away.

'Yeah, let's get back to bed then.' Mouse smiled and they both headed back into the room. Suddenly, something pierced the air and hit Edward square in the forehead. He lay on the floor, crippled in pain by the boot-shaped mark on his head.

'I said, SHUT UP!' Switch screamed, and the rustle of bed covers showed how she turned over to sleep.

He couldn't sleep that night; the effort of muffling his tears had kept him up, ready for him to sit up from a wet pillow in the morning to come.

* * *

Author's note: This chapter actually worked out longer than chapter 10; though I'm sure you guys have noticed that already, nothing gets past you do they? Anyway, this chapter is called Ignorance, coming from the song by Paramore; from the Brand New Eyes album (I'm pretty sure that's the right one). I feel it was named because it was addressing the issues of ignorance of race and of issues, plus the song is just that damn good that it had to be used for a chapter title.

With this chapter being so long though, I can't even be sure whether I should write an omake to finish this off. Probably not, I don't think it needs one, besides; you guys had two in the last chapter, so I redeemed the lack of one with the length of this one. There you go, those are my reasons and I'm sticking to them.

You're probably wondering though why I stuck a quote at the top of this chapter. Well, while I was looking through quotes by Niccolo Machiavelli for a Hamlet essay, I also found other quotes by Aristotle, Descartes, Plato and Edgar Allan Poe, all of whom had quotes that were relevant in some way or another with this story. It helped that they all either preached military discipline, such as it is better to be feared than loved (Machiavelli) or Knowledge. Plato's thoughts especially seem much directed towards the Matrix's main concept; I guess he's not the only one who's thought of life in a dream.

Finally, I will apologise for any of the sections in this chapter and in future chapters (though I'll keep apologising for their sake) that can be interpreted as blasphemy. It's not a commandment that I would want to knowingly break, and if i have, and you find it offensive, then I really am sorry. The last thing I want to do in the writing of these chapters is offend people. To be honest, Matrix is the kind of story where you can make many uses of the Father, The Son, and the Holy Spirit, because they are the kind of themes used, well, that and philosophy; take the name Trinity for example. Whenever Neo says God or Jesus in the films (first film especially), Trinity replies with "What?" as if he's talking to her. Keep an eye out should you decide to watch that film again. I hadn't noticed it myself, but it's true, I'm sure. Anyway, I'll say it again, I apologise for everything in this chapter that can be interpreted as blasphemy.

Once again, please read and review; hope you've enjoyed your half-term and of course have a great weekend!

Ophelia Davis

P.S. It probably makes this chapter more legible if I make a split between the chapter and my rambling author's note. I should start and keep doing this in future for you all. Heck, that way you'll now when to stop reading! I'm kidding, but if you do get bored with these author's notes of mine, then there's a helpful marker for you all.

Chapter 12 will be out in the next two weeks; Chapter 11 is long enough to warrant that, that and I want to have enough time to get to Chapter 16 by 12's release. I'm always working hard on it!


	12. Want

"_No one loves the man who he fears." – Aristotle_

'Ok, we've fixed the roof, but whatever machine attacked you guys, it certainly did a number on it. We had to replace a whole sheet! I hope you know that metal doesn't grow on trees, right?' The mechanic scolded him roughly.

'Yes, of course.' Morpheus answered, frowning.

'The window didn't come off any better, there was no way we could fix it as it was, so we replaced all that too.'

'The whole thing?'

'Yeah, no amount of rubber glass was going to give it a good "auto-glass" fix. That's going to cost a lot.'

'I'm pretty sure it would. Edward, I hope you're listening to this!' Morpheus turned to Edward, who was sat on the ship's ramp.

"Yeah, yeah." He mumbled. His face was still red and his eyes were somewhat puffy from the tears, but he wasn't going to admit it. He looked distantly towards Roy, who was sat at the bottom of the ramp. He wasn't talking to him. The silence was striking him with every glare that Roy could dare to shoot.

'And let me tell you about the seats,' the mechanic continued, 'those stains aren't going to come out for another century. We'd have to replace the seat covers, but I'm pretty sure that's unnecessary, isn't it?'

'Very, the seats can stay as they are.' Morpheus sighed. 'Is that all?'

'Pretty much, but if we included the door between the cock-pit and the top deck, I'd say the cost would amount to the grand total of… $200,000!' The mechanic laughed.

"What?" Edward yelped and his face went pale, "Are you sure? Didn't you misplace a decimal point somewhere?" he whimpered.

'Phew!' Morpheus laughed, 'Good thing we don't have currency!' The mechanic laughed with him.

'Yeah, otherwise you would've been financially boned to the ground!' The mechanic wiped a mirthful tear from his eye. 'But honestly, you're free to take off now.' The mechanic said, trying to straighten up seriously.

'Thank you, we'll leave soon.' Morpheus patted the man's shoulder gratefully. 'May Zion keep you safe.' He left the mechanic's side and joined Edward. 'You see, had we had a currency to begin with, we would've been eating those seat covers for rations, now do you see the trouble you've caused?' He glared at him pointedly.

"Erm…Good thing we don't have a currency…?" Edward laughed nervously, and slowly, Morpheus's face lit up.

'Yes, good thing.'

_"How much does the repair cost?" _Roy asked Morpheus.

_'It would've cost us $200,000 had we got a currency.' _Morpheus answered, and Roy smirked.

_"It's not the first time that little shrimp's cost me a lot. Even while he was in hospital he was creating a large invoice for me to pay off. I would leave him here before we set off if I were you. It'll cost you otherwise."_

_ "Good thing we don't have a currency." _Edward muttered.

Neo came stepping out from inside of the ship, having brought up the last bag. 'Did I hear $200,000?'

"You did." Edward sighed, rolling his eyes. This was getting old. Neo's face pulled up into a grin.

'That's good; Mouse owes me three bowls of his ration.' Neo laughed, 'Now, are we ready to go or not?'

'Almost, we need someone to fetch Tank and Dozer.' Morpheus answered. 'Neo, Edward and Roy, how about if you three go?' Edward cast a worried look to Neo, mouthing something to him.

'Are you sure all three of us need to go? Edward and I can do it ourselves.' Neo interjected.

'You two are actually agreeing to work together for once?' Morpheus asked, astounded.

"Of course, we've got to start working together some time, right?" Edward smiled, dropping his worried gaze.

'Finally, I thought I'd never see the day. But take Roy with you anyway, he could do with the exercise.' Morpheus smiled. 'Neo, do you know the way?'

'Erm…' Neo tried to remember his way, 'Could you draw a map to remind me?'

'I'll do it anyway.' Morpheus sighed. Finding some paper in the ship, he began to draw down a map. 'There you go, that should lead you straight to them.' He smiled, passing it to them.

Footsteps came closer and they saw an old woman heading their way.

'C-Councillor Dillard!' Morpheus yelped with surprise.

Edward turned to look at her; that same familiar feeling twisted in his gut and he thought he could spot a small smile directed towards him from her lips.

'You look surprised to see me.' She frowned seriously at Morpheus.

'Yes, well, I wasn't expecting to see you.'

'Clearly; anyway, Morpheus, I have some business to discuss with you. Please, follow me.'

'Of course, Councillor. I'll see you three later.' He said turning to Neo, Edward and Roy before following the Councillor down the corridor.

-/\*_;)(-

Roy walked on ahead of them; they were already out of the corridor that led from the Dock and into the main caverns of Zion. Edward walked slowly beside Neo with slumped shoulders while Neo carried the map that Morpheus had given them.

'What's going on between you two?' Neo asked, 'What did you want to talk to me about?'

Edward sighed forlornly, "Last night, I-I… almost confessed to him." He glanced up at him, waiting for him to react. Neo's eyes held a look of calculation, until he glanced back down to him.

'About…?' He pronounced, but Edward glared hard and turned away from his gaze.

"God you're dense." Edward growled.

'Come on! Tell me! What about?'

"I'm not going to tell you anymore!"

'Why?'

"Because it's so obvious already!"

'Ok, then remind me. What did you almost confess to him?'

Edward brought his head in closer, "That I L-O-V-E him!" He hissed.

'Ooh!' Neo realised, 'So, how did that go?'

"Not well, obviously.' Edward scowled, "He basically asked me why I would willingly let loads of people die to get him out of his Matrix… and I couldn't even tell him. So, he started calling me a coward, and when I told him it was because I missed him, he said…." Tears glistened in his eyes, "That I was pathetic, and I made him sick." He sniffed; it was a conscious effort to hold the tears back. "He hates me, I know he does."

'Well, when you make such a big sacrifice to impress someone you're not even dating, it can really creep them out.'

"But I wasn't trying to impress him! I was trying to get him out! The whole sacrifices thing had nothing to do with it! I didn't think it would!"

Roy turned his head from in front of them, giving them a long side glare before looking back. "You see? He hates me!"

'Edward, if he really hated you, then he wouldn't even give you eye contact. Try not to worry about it, ok?' Neo reasoned.

"Should I really be listening to you? You're not exactly a Casanova yourself."

'Maybe, but I've been with Trinity for almost a year now, so I must be doing something right.'

Edward sighed, "I guess you're right."

'You see? And Roy is like what? You're "first"?'

Edward blushed up horrendously, "W-What? N-No he's not! I've had girlfriends!"

'How many?'

"Err… Seven!"

'Name them.'

"Ok, uh…Lucy, Julie, Uma…, Perla…Beatrix, Sophie and… Karen!"

'Perla not a name.' Neo answered bluntly.

"It's not like she liked it. Her parents were beatniks, so they were probably hopped up on something when they named her." Edward nodded.

'You're an extraordinarily good liar.' Neo smirked.

"Am not!"

'Then with that kind of experience Roy should be eating out of the palm of your hand. Either that or you really sucked at keeping a relationship going.'

"Fine, I _was _lying, I got them out of an old magazine." He folded his arms.

'Thought so, they're all names of the actors and characters out of Kill Bill.' Neo smiled.

"How could you tell?" His shoulders slumped.

'It was as soon as you said Uma.'

"Dang." Edward sighed.

'Just don't worry about it; everything will fall into place sooner or later.'

"You'd better be sure about that." Edward scowled.

'I'll even keep a close eye on Roy for you if you want.' Neo nodded, giving him thumbs up. Edward's face brightened.

"Thanks."

_"How close are we to Tank and Dozer now?" _Roy called from over his shoulder.

Neo checked the map. _'It's this building here on the left.' _He pointed to the building at a long way off, and Roy audibly groaned his disdain.

_"Don't be like that; you've got to keep walking you slob!" _Edward grinned.

_"Shut up! I only got off the table yesterday!" _Roy argued back.

_ "Serves you right for rushing your recovery!" _Edward called.

_'You've even got nine flights of ladder to climb!' _Neo laughed, checking the map again.

_"Oh buggering HELL!" _Roy screamed, he kicked the dirt and his shoe flew off into the dust cloud. Edward and Neo laughed at Roy's visible disgust, hoping that at least this would return some of the situation to normalcy.

-/\*_;)(-

_"Come on, Roy! You're almost there!" _Edward called. He and Neo were on the tenth floor corridor of the balconies that ran outside of the residential building, waiting for their friend to climb up the merciless ladders. With each achingly slow step, Roy ascended towards them, before finally; he collapsed on the tenth floor.

_'Yeah! Way to go!' _Neo cheered, trying to help him up.

_"No… go on…without me." _Roy huffed breathlessly as sweat rolled down his brow.

_"You really are a slob, aren't you?" _Edward teased. 

_"Don't…you start…on me…Ed! There's…a difference….between a slob…and being unfit…you know!"_

_ "Yeah, it's your middle-age spread." _Edward smirked. Roy rolled onto his front and regained his footing.

_"Does this look like fat to you?" _Roy yelled, pulling up his shirt.

'He sure got his breath back quick.' Neo smirked to the blushing Edward.

_"What was that?" _Roy growled.

_"Nothing." _Edward replied, turning quickly away from Roy's flat gut, hiding his mild flush. "What's the room number?" Edward asked Neo.

'248.' they trekked along the balcony before they found the number. Nervously, Neo raised his knuckle and knocked whilst Edward waited and Roy leaned against a nearby wall. The door opened and a woman stood in the doorway.

'May I help you?'

'Yes, I'm looking for Tank and Dozer.' Neo answered. 'We're ready to leave Zion.'

'So soon?' She looked up at him, a glance of hopelessness in her eyes. 'Th-they'll be with you shortly, please, come in.' She stepped aside and Neo and Edward passed into the room. They found themselves stood in a small kitchen area and behind it a small sitting room. There were other rooms besides. Two children came running in from their bedroom after the sound of visitors and they looked up at both Edward and Neo expectantly.

'New playmates?' The boy asked hopefully. He had short black hair and his skin was a light brown, supposedly like his father's. Roy stepped into the room from outside and, looking down at the boy, and felt something twinge in his gut.

"No, we're not here for that. We're actually here for Tank and Dozer." Edward smiled.

'Uncle and daddy? But they just got here!' The boy cried in distress.

'I'm sorry, but this is important business.' Neo tried to reason.

'Don't take them away again!' The girl cried, 'It's lonely without them here!' Edward flinched from her cry and tried to gulp away his developing apprehension.

Roy sighed forlornly, and stepping towards them, bent down in front of the two children. Edward and Neo stared at him in confusion.

_"What's wrong little one?" _He smiled reassuringly, but the boy glared at him through his tears. _"Don't worry," _He placed a hand on his head and rustled his hair gently, _"Everything will be all right, you'll see." _

'M-Mom?' He looked up to his mother with uncertainty. She yanked Roy's hand from her son's head and snatched him back into her arms, defensive and fearsome. He knew he couldn't understand her, but he understand her protective manner.

'Who are you three?' She growled, backing away as she pulled her daughter close to her, 'What are you doing here?'

The door opened behind them, and Tank and Dozer entered, laughing merrily.

'Neo, Roy, little man; what you three doin' here?' Dozer asked, chuckling.

'The Nebuchadnezzar's all fixed up and ready to go.' Neo answered.

'We're going now?' Tank asked, bemused.

" 'fraid so."

'Wait, this is the One you were talking about?' the mother asked, pointing to Neo.

'Sure is, Cas.' Dozer grinned, 'He and the little man both.'

'Him?' She pointed down to Roy.

'Nah, the kid, Edward.' He smiled, patting Edward's shoulder.

'We're supposed to place the future of Zion in the hands of that shrimp?' She shouted.

"I'm not a shrimp!" Edward screamed, "Look! I know I'm just some kid to you, and that the chances are we'll lose against the machines, but I'm going to try! No matter what, I'm going to save this city, or die trying! You can count on that!"

Cas stared at him incredulously, 'And...What do they call you...?'

"Edward Elric; Clier if you'd like." He smiled fiercely.

-/\*_;)(-

Morpheus sipped his cup quietly. Councillor Dillard looked at him, searching for a single reaction to grace his face. He placed the cup back on the table, calculating all that he heard listlessly in his mind. He ran her words through his head once again, trying to take it all in. He sighed finally.

'So it was because of the sentinel attack on the Mariner that all record of the Beta-Matrix was wiped from all connecting networks years ago.' Morpheus stated; his face hardly portrayed an emotion.

'Yes, as I have told you, it hadn't been long after its discovery in its newborn year of 1899 that all traces of its existence were lost. It's funny how quickly knowledge of your existence fades after just a few years.' She sipped her cup in contemplation.

Morpheus thought for a moment, 'I can remember now, reading the damage report of the ship; it read that there was a large hole where a machine had pierced the monitor's information base. It must have affected the connecting networks.'

'As I recall, the year then was 1904.' She remembered, 'tell me; what year would it be now?'

'I believe it would be1915.' Morpheus answered, taking another sip.

'11 years!' She sounded in an incredulous voice, 'That would indeed be long enough to forget; and Edward Elric is...16 years old, is he not?'

'Yes, he is,' Morpheus thought on it, 'then he was born in 1899?' He asked, surprised.

'It seems quite fitting for the messiah of a world to be born at the dawn of an era, is it not?' She smiled. 'Quite like the messiah of another religion that some Bluepills believe in.'

'Hm,' Morpheus frowned darkly, 'the son of god made flesh, but nowhere near perfection; he can't heal the sick, perform miracles, and I'm sure he can't walk on water. He's human like everyone else.'

'Yes, though the Mother is not; I doubt he is even aware of it. But I ask that you do not tell him of this tonight. He must know when he is ready.'

Once he had finished the contents of his cup, he stood up from his seat and bowed deeply to the councillor. 'Then I shall thank you, Councillor Dillard. I am deeply honoured that you shared this information with me.'

'Please Morpheus,' she sighed in annoyance, 'is there ever a moment where you let go of your compulsive use of etiquette? Being a Councillor, you can imagine how bored a woman can get being followed by Zionites scraping and kissing the floor with each footstep you take. Honestly, every time I cough the whole of Zion has a conniption.' Morpheus chuckled at her rare sense of humour.

'I must leave you here then, I'll have to break the news to Tank that he wasn't the first to discover the Beta-Matrix.'

'Speaking of, the crew of the Logos came in not long after you claiming that _Sparks _was the first to discover the Beta-Matrix and that a certain _Alphonse _was the first citizen to be freed from its matrix.'

'Alphonse?' Morpheus looked stunned, 'He's alive? What did he look alike?'

'Blond hair, and golden eyes, he's a lot older than when I last met him, but he doesn't look much like his older brother.'

'Please, Councillor Dillard, do not let Edward know that you've met Alphonse, and tell Niobe to do the same. Edward and Alphonse must not meet again!'

'What is the meaning of this?' she looked astounded.

'Right now, Edward's sole purpose for working with us is that he can search for his brother along the way. If he finds out that we've already found him, then he'll lose all motivation to help us.'

She stared at him with astounded wide eyes. 'Very well,' she sighed, 'I shall let Captain Niobe know of this.'

'Thank you.' He bowed before leaving the Councillor's personal room.

-/\*_;)(-

He leaned against the rail of the building's balcony, waiting for someone to arrive from the flat room. The other was sat at his side, his feet dangling over the edge.

"_So, what happened in there?" _Roy asked from his seat, staring down towards the sandy floor so far away at the bottom.

'_You saw what happened, didn't you?'_

"_But I couldn't understand a word of it." _Roy frowned.

'_Well, the kids got upset because we said we were going to take their father and uncle away, Tank and Dozer came in and the woman wanted to know who the One was and then Edward made a big hero speech.'_

"_And that's it?" _Roy asked in a bemused fashion, staring up at him.

'_Yep, that's it.' _Neo sighed. 

"_And everyone seemed to be getting so worked up too; you make it sound like it's nothing." _Roy smirked.

'_True, but their disapproval was understandable. They hadn't seen them for a while, and they only got to see them for a day. It's bound to seem unfair.'_

Roy stared back down towards the drop below and chuckled, _"Unfair, I'm sure everyone knows what it's like to think everything's unfair; Edward more than anyone. His father left them, and he lost his mother at a young age…"_

'_And his little brother is still missing.'_

"_Ha, missing." _Roy smirked.

'_And you think that's funny?' _Neo stared at him with disgusted.

"_It's an inside joke, don't worry about it." _Roy frowned.

'_Why are you so cold towards him? He's trying his best, he got you out and you're shoving all of that effort back in his face!'_

"_He did it at the cost of people's lives!" _he tried to reason

'_They weren't anyone you knew were they?'_

"_You don't know that!"_

'_But neither do you! I bet you can't even see why he's doing all of this, can you?'_

"_See what?" _Roy scowled irritably.

'_Exactly! It's so obvious; even I know what's going on!'_

"_I would know if he told me!"_

'_He tried to tell you, but you wouldn't listen! Why do you think he got you out, why did he keep coming to visit you every day despite the fact you could've been angry at him? Why do you think he's doing all this for you and more?' _

Roy's eyes widened, but narrowed in anger. _"I don't know." _He hissed through clenched teeth.

'_And he calls me dense!' _He kicked Roy in the back and he slid from the ledge. He screamed from the shock, only to realise he was dangling by the collar. Neo was holding on tightly.

'_I could…drop you.' _Neo hissed with effort, _'I could let you fall…and I wouldn't miss you…for a second. But I can't…because Ed would kill me. Now…quit the attitude…and keep an eye…on him…then tell me…what you see!' _

"_Please! Just get me up!" _Roy screamed, he scrambled for Neo's arm.

'_Will you stop acting…so cold then?'_

"_Alright! Whatever! Just get me up!" _Neo began to drag him up by the collar. Roy grasped for the rail behind him quickly and pulled himself back over to the safer edge. He dropped onto the metal floor, gasping and shaking.

"_Don't you dare…do that again!" _Roy breathed.

'_Then you know what you need to do, because next time, I won't hesitate to let you fall.' _Neo hissed.

'What's going on?' Tank came out of the room, followed by Edward.

"_Are you alright?" _Edward dropped down to his knees by Roy's side, gazing into him with concern. Roy looked up to Neo, and then back to Edward before smirking.

"_Nothing, I just slipped off the balcony, that's all. I was lucky Neo was here to catch me." _He said the last phrase particularly through gritted teeth. Edward smiled brightly.

"_I'm glad, thanks Neo." _He said warmly.

'_It's no problem.' _Neo grinned.

'We ready to go?' Dozer asked, coming out of the room with his bags.

'Yep,' Neo replied, helping Roy to his feet, _'You ok?'_

"_Fine." _Roy replied through gritted teeth.

Once they had made their way down the ladders and they began to walk back to the dock, Neo tugged Roy's sleeve so that they hung behind at the rear of the group.

'_Do you see anything?' _Neo growled.

"_Not a thing."_ Roy replied nonchalantly and he pulled himself free from Neo's grasp before heading further into the group. He came up behind Edward and Dozer.

"So, did you explain the situation to her?" Edward asked.

'Yeah little man, it's all been taken care of.' He grinned.

"How did she take it?"

'She was upset, you know, "here today, gone tomorrow," but she understands my line of work.'

Edward sighed sadly, "But, maybe you should stay."

'Me? Stay? I couldn't.'

"But you have kids who need you." He stressed.

'That may be true, but you and Neo's what's important now.'

"But-."

'Think on it like this. I want my kids to look up to me and be proud. So, would they rather a brave daddy who was away all the time insuring their future, or a cowardly daddy who stayed at home and did nothing all day, cos I'm sure as hell they won't be proud of that.'

Edward was taken aback by his reply, and he looked down out of respect. "Of course they would want a brave dad." He gave a small smile, "that's all kids ever want, is to have a parent they're proud of." Dozer tussled his hair, and Edward looked up to his grinning face.

'Without you an' Neo, there is no future.'

_Maybe you're not just my Uncle after all._

Roy looked him over curiously, but sighed finally, resigning himself to the fact that he couldn't understand because they didn't want him to. He used to be good at getting to the heart of private matters, but his skills were no good if you couldn't understand the language they were in.

'Oh, I almost forgot to tell ya!' Dozer grinned.

"What is it?" Edward asked, his mood picking up.

'Oh god, here we go.' Tank sighed.

'Our brother-in-law, Link, is going to be an operator!' He cheered.

"You're brother-in-law…?"

'Yeah, our sister Zee's man, he's going to be starting on the Pequod as of today! He'll be working for the legendary Captain Flint!'

"Th-That's great. I'm pleased for you." Edward smiled, though he didn't know the man.

'Our little Link's all grown up.' Dozer sniffed.

'Geez, he's been like this since yesterday.' Tank rolled his eyes.

"I can imagine." Edward smiled, patting the teary man's arm.

The five carried on their way, trekking the long distance to meet their comrades at the Nebuchadnezzar.

-/\*_;)(-

They made the walk down the illuminated corridor to find Morpheus stood by the ship at the end of the Dock. He nodded and smiled at their return as they came closer to the ship and all smiled in return except Roy, who drooped wearily like an under-fed flower and he dropped at Morpheus's feet as they arrived beside him.

'Good, you made it back.' Morpheus smiled.

"_Please…kill me." _Roy breathed in his exhaustion and his chest heaved heavily, trying earnestly to catch back the oxygen it sorely needed from the air. He hoped for some sympathy from the man, but Morpheus laughed instead.

"What did Councillor Dillard want to discuss with you?" Edward asked curiously.

'Never you mind, now come on, it's about time we left.' With his hand at his back, he led Edward up towards the ramp of the ship with Neo, Tank and Dozer following close behind. Roy was still laid out on the floor, turning his head limply towards the retreating crew.

_"Hey…Wait…What about me?"_

_ "If you think for one second I'm going to carry you up to the ship you can think again." _Edward shouted back. Neo sighed and rolled his eyes.

'Fine, I'll do it.'

'Thank you Neo, we'll wait for you inside.' Morpheus nodded.

Neo made his way back down the ramp and, grasping Roy's arm, wrapped it around his neck, gripped his back and knees and picked him up, carrying him bridal style.

_"Gee, my hero, whatever would I do without you?" _Roy drawled, his voice dripped with endeavour and sarcasm.

_'You owe me twice as much now for this.'_

_ "What do you mean twice as much? The only reason I owe you in the first place is because you kicked me off that balcony!"_

_ 'Well, if you have the breath to complain….' _Neo dropped him suddenly, and Roy fell sprawled out on his back.

_"Ow! Fine, I owe you double!" _He winced, rubbing his butt in mild agony.

_ 'I thought so.' _Neo smirked, picked him up again, and carried him into the ship.

As Neo and Roy stepped in through the ships entrance and the ramp closed behind them, Morpheus and Edward stared up at the pair, now presumed a couple.

"Err…Neo…?" Edward blushed faintly, his face made a bitter turn of emotion that he wanted to hide.

'Are you _sure _there's something you're not telling me?' Morpheus eyed him pointedly.

'No, nothing at all.' Neo stated and for the third time that day Roy became the victim of mysterious convictions and gravity.

"_Ow! Stop doing that!" _Roy yelped as he rubbed his butt from a familiar ache he had only felt five minutes ago.

'If anyone wants me, I'll be in the kitchen; I'm starving.' He nodded to Morpheus and with a disregard for his victim, stepped over Roy, who followed the man's trail down the metal ladder with a glare of disgust.

"_Here, let me help you up." _Edward sprung up from his seat at the monitor and offered his hands, but Roy never paid him a glance and helped himself up off the floor.

"_I'm fine." _Roy batted Edward's hands away. _"Geez, what's his problem?"_ He scowled turning to Morpheus.

"_He's a little rough round the edges if you don't know him well, but he's a good guy-." _But Roy shot him a poisonous glare that made Edward hold his tongue.

'_I expect you're tired from today's walking. If I were you I'd get all the rest I could, once we get a good distance away from Zion we'll be starting your induction.' _

"_Where will I be sleeping?" _Roy asked.

'_It's down to the end of this corridor, turn left and it's the second door on your right. I'll ask Edward to show you if you-.'_

"_No, that's fine; I can find it for myself. Thank you, and excuse me."_ He gave Morpheus a militaristic salute and crossed the top deck for the ladder.

"_Do you want me to get you something to-?" _But he was already down the ladder and reaching the end of the darkly lit corridor without paying him a look of any kind. His face dropped low, giving a forlorn sigh that wasn't audible but just as disheartening.

'Don't worry about it.' Morpheus gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder, 'It will all work out.'

"I hope so." And he walked away from Morpheus, letting the hand slip from his shoulder and to the older man's side. He stepped down the ladder and followed Neo's predeceasing steps into the kitchen.

He took his place at a bench and glanced across, watching Neo spoon glop into his mouth with a hungry enthusiasm. He glanced down at the strange hands resting in his lap, their appendages laced together. He followed the glare of poor kitchen light that trailed along the plastic imitation and the pale flesh of the genuine article. He parted their bondage together and followed the outlines of the fingers, comparing the workmanship of what was inherit and what was given. He glared at them both with disgust and a tinge of disappointment. A heat began to rise at the edge of his eyes and he blinked rapidly, hoping the fresh wetness would retreat. About him he became conscious of the whirring of the engine as it began to clang and work its gears, filling him up with a gentle hum; despite it all, despite this…feeling, everything was going on, as if nothing happened. People were still working, living, eating, breathing, crying, laughing, screaming, and dying. Though no word was uttered, the silence was deafening.

'What's up with you?' Neo dropped the spoon into his bowl and the clatter brought him back from the meditation of thought whirling through his mind as well as the feeling of weightlessness that his stomach was all too conscious of.

"Nothing." He glanced up quickly at Neo and away again. He tried to wipe away some of the liquid at his eyes, frowning as his cheek felt the scratchiness of scuffed plastic.

'You want me to get you a bowl?' Neo motioned to his own.

"No thanks, I'll eat later."

'Oh,' Neo settled his happier mood and, with a decisive movement, pushed the bowl away from him. 'You and I, right now, we need to talk. I don't think Roy's a good choice for you.' He stated bluntly. Edward glared up at him, taken aback by the outburst.

"You don't like my choice in men?" He looked bemused. "I didn't think you had such an informed opinion." Edward sounded with a tinge of insult.

'I know I don't and normally this would be exactly the kind of thing I would rather not get involved in, but right now I think you're choice in men is way off.'

"What are you talking about? He's a good choice! He's got good convictions, he's ambitious and he's loyal to his subordinates!"

'But not to you!' Neo countered.

"He's a good man!" Edward shouted and the clatter of footsteps sounded outside the door.

'Keep your voice down!' Neo shushed and they waited in a resumed silence as the echoing feet passed from the door and down the corridor. Once they were inaudible, he neared his head in closer and hissed at Edward. 'The last I heard, good men didn't insult people behind their backs!'

"Then at least he's had the courage so far to insult me to my face!"

'That's not what I'm saying.' Neo cooled down his aggravation. 'Listen, Roy said that your little brother being missing was a joke.'

"As i- wait, what?" Edward's eyes widened, taken aback by it.

'When Roy and I were talking on the balcony, we started talking about you, and he laughed at your little brother being missing.'

"I'm sure he didn't mean it."

'Why are you making excuses for him?' Neo glared at him in disgust. Edward stared back down into his lap. 'I've been keeping an eye on him, like you told me,'

"I didn't ask you to, you offered, remember?"

'Well, whatever, but his mind's too set in its ways to even see you.' But Edward looked away, 'If I was you, I would give him up as a dead loss and, if it was possible, plug him back into the Beta-Matrix.'

"So, you're saying I shouldn't have brought him out of his world in the first place." Edward scowled.

'Don't you think that would've been best? I can understand what drove you to do it; you were lonely, and it's understandable, but you didn't think this through.' Neo reasoned, 'You see, the reason we try not to bring older bluepills out of the Matrix is because they are too set in their own reality, and, if they were revealed to the truth, it would be too much for them. Their minds cannot be told the answer, they have to see it, to believe it; they have trouble letting go. It's cruel and it's selfish.'

"Now look who's making excuses for him." Edward glared fiercely.

'Just look at it like this. Roy probably had everything going for him in the Beta-Matrix. He had a high rank and a well-paid job, he had friends and family and something to work up to. But he's been taken out of his world to find that reality's a hell of a lot crappier than he could think possible, and suddenly his once great life is a wasting pile of shit just like everyone else's in this hole of a world. Now what would you think if someone took you away from everything that you lived for?'

Edward sighed finally, "Of course I would hate it."

'And that's exactly what you've done to Roy.' Edward's eyes widened and cold sweat ran down his neck.

"Earlier, you told me that everything will fall into place sooner or later." Edward sounded through clenched teeth. "But how can I believe in those words, when you're already telling me to give him up like this?"

'Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying all of this because I'm against the relationship. Despite what you might think, I actually care about you, but if a man like Roy is going to continue acting cold and making you feel like crap, then he's not worth your breath. But, obviously, to you, he is, and if that's truly how you feel then there's not much else I can say to change your mind.' A small smile perked up on Neo's lips.

Edward's jaw relaxed and he stared into the brown eyes that were offering him reassurance, despite the point they had tried to prove. His eyes fell back to his hands, held before him as if to receive, and with a fresher wetness in his eyes than before, they cradled his face. A lump grew in his throat and softly he whimpered and wept. He ignored the footsteps that he could hear come closer and the extra weight joining him by his side on the bench.

'Ok, come here.' Warmth stretched over the form of his back and a hard softness pressed his head tightly to a now louder beating and rhythmic existence. He slid his hands away from his face, and from the corner of his eye, Neo was no longer there. His realisation occurred when he found the texture of a familiar blue shirt pressed into his temple. Neo's long arms rocked him in a comforting motion, and he closed his eyes as more tears slid down his cheek. His breathing heaved like inaudible hiccups in his chest and slowly, with apprehension at first, his arms rose and clung to the older man's body; he'd found a well of support, his strength, his rock.

He could no longer care to comprehend how long they both sat like this, but after what seemed like a century, a hand rested on his shoulder, and he pulled himself out of that warm darkness to find Morpheus stood behind him.

'Would you like to take Roy some food?' Morpheus asked softly. He smiled down at Edward, disregarding that his eyes were red and puffy; treating him the same as he would have otherwise. Edward nodded in answer, wiping the rest of the tears away on a sleeve. As he got up weakly, Neo smiled up at him. Edward mouthed his words; thank you.

-/\*_;)(-

With the bowl and spoon in hand, he walked down the corridor and a corner to follow the hallway that Morpheus had instructed and where he remembered Roy would go. He found the door, a deep shade of peeling green and a metallic doorknob. There was a sudden surge of movement as the ship's turning caused him to fall into a wall, but he kept the bowl close.

_Lucky the food's too thick to spill._

Edward smiled from this small glimmer of hope and, righting himself back onto his feet, stood before the door. His stomach churned, and a sick feeling spread through him. With a shaky fist, he raised it and gently tapped the door. No sound came from behind it and, with less apprehension, knocked louder. Still nothing, he clenched the knob and turned it free from its door-jamb.

"_I-I'm coming in."_ He called and slowly stepped into the room. With metal walls and a flashing light, it was just as small as his. He looked to the bed positioned against the right wall by the headboard and found the man lying on his stomach; a pillow was arrested over his head by his arms. He looked back up to the flashing room light and smiled knowingly.

"_Roy?" _He called the pillow-head man, but he didn't stir. "_Roy?" _He called a little louder, but there was no success. He sighed lowly and with a sense of resignation, placed the dish and spoon together on a chair by the side of the bed. He turned to leave, but turned back, looking down on him.

_Are you still in Central when you dream? _

He sighed, and finally he sat down on the side of the bed, just by Roy's waist and he studied him. With a heavy heave of breath, an arm released its hold on the pillow and it sprung up to reveal the sleeper's face; the pillow-head man was a human once again. His face was stressed, his brow was damp and furrowed, his closed eyes seemed strained, and his jaw worked as if caught up in some sort of aggravation, his breathing rasped through the clamp of his teeth.

_He had a high-rank and a well-paid job, he had friends and family and something to work up to. But he's been taken out of his world to find that reality's a hell of a lot crappier than he could think possible, and suddenly his once-great life is a wasting pile of shit just like everyone else's in this hole of a world._

Neo's words rang in his mind, thrumming and making them ever known in their famous routine of repetition. He raised a hand, his face forlorn and slowly it descended down upon the man. Soft fingertips caressed his cheek, his thumb stroked the base of his eyes, and in a turn of expression, his eyes uncoiled themselves from their tension and brows let go of whatever was keeping them knitted; something in his dreams must have found him peace. A smile turned up on Edward's lips. Slowly, his fingers followed the outline of the man's strong jaw and it stilled for the relaxing touch that soaked in the man's doubts and worries. A softer breathing came through and from beneath his fingertips he could feel the definition of his jaw relax and flatten; the skin no longer felt strained.

Edward's fingers travelled down to the chin of his face, his thumb followed the soft pinkness of his lower lip, staying to feel the warm sleeper's breath tickle its tip. Edward's eyebrows rose in a sad expression, something tugged at him inside, but he couldn't let himself. He couldn't. Just…couldn't. He stood up and, with slow steps, made his way towards the door. As he took hold of the knob, a distant voice called to him.

"_E-Edward…?" _Edward gasped and turned quickly. The man was still arrested in the sleepy holds of a naturally occurring coma, only just holding himself up by his shaking arms.

"_It's on the chair." _Edward murmured.

"…_What?"_

"_Your food; Morpheus wanted me to…you must be hungry so…food; on your chair." _Edward's words stumbled and tripped, and it took Roy a blurry turn of his head to realise what he meant. He turned back to Edward; a small smile creased up, but then fell as his brow tugged at something. He let his arms slowly give in to the strain of gravity, and his head dropped into the mattress. The slow heave of sleeping breath filled the room again, and sadly, Edward retreated. He shut the door quietly, turning the knob so that the lock would fall smoothly into the door-jamb. His knees shook weakly, and his back sunk down the door until his butt on the floor. The lump grew once again, and he wept softly, hoping the man behind wouldn't hear.

-/\*_;)(-

His fingers tapped at the keyboard of the monitor in a slow and languid manner, his eyes followed the writing coming up on the screen. The room was dimly lit, as were the lights of the corridor and other rooms. Everyone would be asleep by now, and so should he as Morpheus had advised he get some rest, but, with no one up, and no way of getting to sleep, he traipsed out of his room, up the ladder and sat himself in a seat that normally Tank would occupy were he not catching up on a week's worth of all-nighters.

As he typed on the keyboard, a voice rung in metallic form, _'Access denied.'_

"_Damn_!" Edward cursed under his breath, "_What is the password_?" thinking for a moment, he typed again; pressing the enter button, he waited for the voice, _'Access denied.' _

"_Is that all you know how to say_?" Edward shook the monitor in frustration, but he collected himself from his mood, "_Ok, calm down, the code has to be something difficult. Otherwise I wouldn't have this problem. Come on Ed, think, you're Clier for god's sake, this should be a cake walk_!" After a minute of dwelling on it, he finally started to type cautiously, making sure to enter it without mistake. _'…Access Denied.' _

"_Oh come ON_!" Edward shouted. Footsteps clanked their way up the ladder and he turned quickly to find Mouse. "Did I wake you again?" He asked.

'No, I was up anyway.' Mouse smiled, 'what are you doing?' He asked curiously.

"Can't sleep, so I'm trying to look up some information; learn something."

'Oh, right.' Mouse grinned knowingly, 'The _Clier _thing. Yeah, I get it.' He stood behind Edward and, reaching over, began to type into the monitor.

'_Access Granted; may Zion keep you safe.' _It answered in its routine way and suddenly files and folders were open to him.

"How'd you do that? Did you know the password?" looked up at him incredulously.

'Not really, but there's a default override code for all monitors used by the Resistance; once you know that then accessing any monitor isn't a problem.'

"Why's that?" Edward asked.

'Well, the default code is something only an Operator is supposed to know, so if you consider this: the password is in place for the operator on a ship. The operator of that ship is supposed to know it because it's for his and the crewmembers of that ship's use only, not everyone else's. But, should all the crew of that ship die, or an operator die, then a new operator or detective can be employed to enter the default code so that they can look through the history of information use on the monitor and/or to change the password settings to something the new operator feels most comfortable with.'

"…I see."

'You don't really understand it, do you?' Mouse smiled.

"I'm not entirely computer literate." Edward shrugged.

'But you seem to be picking up the basics pretty well.'

"I learned from watching Tank and Dozer mostly."

'Would you like me to give you the default code, in case you want to do this again?' Mouse smiled.

"Sure, why not." Edward smiled. Mouse took upon a pen and paper from a file box beneath the monitor and scribbled down the code. He folded it up and passed it back to him.

'That's all of it.'

Edward unfolded the paper and stared at the code, "So, is this code the same for _all _monitors, no matter what ship you're on?"

'That's right. But you'll have to keep the code safe from everyone else, because if it gets in the wrong hands, _anyone _could access our monitor, change our files, look through our history or change the information into something completely incorrect, so much so that our monitor will become a modern day Wikipedia site. It'll be hell sorting out the right from the wrong, and I can't be bothered with it, and I'm sure Tank and Dozer can't be either.'

"Ok, well I'm not sure what a Wikipedia site _is _but by the sounds of it, it sounds like hell on Earth, so I'll take your word for it." He folded it back up and placed it in his pocket.

'Good.' Mouse took up a seat next to him and slid the keyboard from beneath his fingers, tapping the keys, 'Ok, so what did you need the monitor for?' He asked.

"I'm sure I can do it myself." Edward sounded with frustration.

'But I can help you while I'm here.'

"You've done enough, thanks." The irritation in his voice was rising.

'But you wouldn't know what to do if-.'

"I've had a bad day; just go!" Edward shouted angrily, the lump was growing again, and Mouse stared down at him with a look of fear in his eyes. Edward looked downcast out of the boy's fearful gaze, hoping he wouldn't see. "I-I'm sorry." He sniffled, "I just want to b-be on my own." He pointed out towards the ladder, "Please…just go…"

Gulping, Mouse nodded and backed away down the ladder, but Edward sat there frozen, waiting until the single sound of a closing door was heard on the air. As his ears caught the sound, he turned back to the monitor and slid the keyboard back in front of him. He sniffed and wiped away the tears, sliding the mouse at the side of him and clicking on a folder.

_Ok, what programs are in the Matrix…? It might be worth me knowing if I'm to take in information._

Three yellow folder icons flashed up before him, each with a name and a number in brackets. At the bottom right corner, four numbers were stated under the current year as 1999.

_Current (10,102,621,964,893), Exiles (236), Defected (67)._

Thinking for a moment, he manoeuvred the mouse once again.

_Let's have a look at Current._

He clicked on the folder, and before him rows upon rows of file icons flashed up on the screen and he watched with daunted eyes as the sidebar at the side grew so miniscule that he doubted even his mouse arrow could grab a hold and detect it.

_10,102,621,964,893 files! They weren't kidding! Ok, how do I go back on this thing? _

Looking about on the screen, he found in the left-hand corner a green arrow pointing left, supposedly backwards.

_That must be it! _

He clicked it and the three folders were back again, along with a regular-sized sidebar, thank goodness. He breathed a sigh of relief.

_What's in the Exiles folder?_

He clicked on it and rows of folders came up, but at least the haul of them looked manageable. He observed their names with some interest.

_Let's see. Merovingian, Werewolves, Witches, Keymaker, Vampire, Banshees, Kelpies, Ghosts…_

A flash of realisation caught him.

_Hang on! Most of these are just fairy tale monsters! They don't exist!_

He clicked the green button a few times and was met with two folder icons.

_Matrix, Beta-Matrix._

"_At least my world won't have stupid fairy things on it like that one._" He muttered to himself and he clicked on the folder.

_Current (415,868,558,595), Exiles (115), Defected (33).There's not as many current, defected or exiled programs in here. It must be either because it's not as old as the Matrix, because it's working better or maybe because who ever made these Matrices must be working harder on it. Can't say I blame them though. _Edward grinned to himself; _Of course the Beta-Matrix is better than the Matrix. _

A yellow folder flashed suddenly and the number changed.

_Current now 415,868,558,594…? What could that be about? Does the monitor just update it then? If that's so then I don't know what Mouse was so worried about. "Someone changing the information". The monitor must be doing that for itself perfectly fine. Now, let's look in… Exiles._

He clicked the folder, and it came up. Glancing at each one, he clicked on the sidebar to scroll down and read all of the file names.

_Ghosts; didn't think they would be in this folder. _

Edward sighed, clicked back and spied the last folder curiously.

_Defects must mean broken programs. If there are only 33, then I wonder what they are. _

He opened up the folder, and his eyes immediately fell onto the first word that caught his eye.

_Alchemy…? But, how is that defected…?_

Edward sighed, scratching his head, puzzled. As the allocated time of night of the real world underground drew on, he sat at the monitor, learning from the folders and files that he could.

-/\*_;)(-

He felt a nudge on his shoulder, and he woke up to find Dozer standing there.

'Hey there little man, you been on here all night?' He asked, looking at the monitor. The screen light was still illuminating the room.

"Couldn't sleep." He drawled, yawning widely. "Thought I'd…learn something new."

'As part of your duty?'

"Nothing else." Edward shrugged.

'How'd you get on here, I thought I'd locked it up.'

"Mouse gave me password…thing."

'Ok, how 'bout you go for a snooze on your bed?' Dozer asked; smiling as Edward wiped his eyes sleepily.

"Nah, I'm up now; might as well eat." Edward stood up from his chair groggily and stepped towards the ladder, but in his daze he forgot to turn his back to it and there was a sudden clang as flesh, metal and plastic met with the floor. "OW!" He yelped.

'There ain't a ladder for no reason you know!' Dozer called as he took a seat up to the monitor.

"Yeah, I think I got that!" Edward called back, standing up shakily. "Wow that woke me up!" Edward rubbed his head and headed for the kitchen, leaving Dozer's chuckle to echo through the top deck.

In the kitchen, Neo, Trinity and Morpheus were sat up to the table with a bowl each.

'Oh hey, you're up.' Neo sounded through a mouthful.

'Don't talk with your mouth full.' Trinity sighed and gave him a gentle punch in the arm.

'Yes honey.' He murmured.

"And me falling off the top deck didn't give it away?" Edward grumbled as he picked up a bowl. He placed it beneath the dispenser and glop fell thickly into it. He picked up a spoon from the utensils and took a seat next to Morpheus.

'Oh yeah, I definitely heard that. I bet it would've been hilarious if I saw it.' Neo smirked.

"So what? I was tired." Edward frowned, swallowing a spoonful of glop. No matter how many times you ate this stuff a day, and no matter how many months or years you'd been eating it, the taste never got better.

'I saw you weren't in bed.' Morpheus said, 'Have you been studying all night?'

"Yeah, doing what I can for Zion and all that." Edward laughed.

'What about?' Morpheus asked with a smile.

"Exiled and defected programs mostly. There were too many current files to study."

'Why couldn't you sleep anyway?' Trinity asked as she pushed her bowl aside.

"With all that was happening yesterday, I was too frustrated to sleep, which reminds me," He turned to Neo, "Thanks for yesterday." He smiled warmly.

'No problem, my door's always open if you want to talk.' Neo stated without a smile or bad word, his eyes still concentrated on his bowl. 'But not after midnight, otherwise I'm engaged.'

"Don't remind me why." Edward grimaced, that night when he first saw them…together still haunted him to this day.

'You're saying thank you to Neo? You two talking? My, I feel like all of the Zion celebrations have come at once.' Morpheus smiled sadly, wiping a tear from his eye, 'To see you two get along, and confide in each other, I never thought I'd see the day.'

'Don't act so dramatic, Morpheus.' Neo grunted, 'We just got tired of arguing, that's all.'

'But still, it is a major breakthrough for our ship.' Morpheus chuckled.

Footsteps came in through the door and they looked up to find Roy stood there.

"_Good morning Morpheus." _Roy saluted.

'_Morning to you too. But please, don't feel you have to salute to me. This is a relaxed ship; we don't follow rigid formal rules. Just my orders.'_

"_Very well, I'll keep that in mind." _Roy nodded; he looked about the table to find them eating bowls of glop. _"That was on my chair this morning. Is this all we eat?"_

'_Yes, but it's not for lack of better reserves.' _Morpheus stated, _'They contain all the nutrients and minerals your body will need. It should be very nourishing for you.' _

Roy nodded knowingly, and going to the dispenser, he picked up a bowl and studied it carefully, before finally asking, _"Excuse me, how do you work this thing?" _

"_I can show you." _Edward got up from his seat. _"It's this small lever here. You put your bowl in here." _He took the bowl from Roy and placed it beneath the nozzle,_ "You pull this lever round like this," _He pulled round twice to fill the bowl up,_ "And that's all there is to it." _Edward smiled, picking up a spoon and handing it to him. 

Roy looked at him, not sure how to react, but finally he muttered his thanks and took a seat beside Neo. Edward returned to his seat, feeling warmer for the kind act. He couldn't help but smile as he spooned in another mouthful.

'Edward,' Neo began, 'you know; if you ever want me to talk to him then-.'

"No, it's alright, really. You've helped me enough already." Edward smiled.

'Suit yourself.' Neo shrugged and ate the last spoonful of his meal. He put down the spoon and sighed, contented that he was full.

Mouse stepped into the kitchen, yawning and scratching his head tiredly. He drifted automatically to the food dispenser and picked up a bowl.

'Nuh-uh Mouse! Not after yesterday's bet!' He pointed to his mouth like a starved child.

'We're starting now?' He stared at him in disbelief.

'Oh yes! Today's the day that all of your meals are mine!' Neo smiled with a tint of evilness.

'And I missed dinner for nothing.' Mouse sighed.

'That's right! Feel the pangs! In fact, take a seat! You can watch me devour your breakfast! Soon, my brother, soon they will come thick and fast!' Neo laughed manically. With a tense and mocking slowness he took in another mouthful while Mouse stared with a slobbering hunger, wide-eyed and horror-struck.

'Neo!' Trinity sighed with disgust, 'You just ate breakfast; you're going to make yourself sick!'

'All's fair in love and war, sweetie.' His stared intensely at Mouse, smirking evilly with each mouthful of glop that passed his gullet.

'War? Who said this was war?' Trinity frowned.

'Mouse did!' Neo stared up at Trinity, as if it was ridiculous that she should question him. 'He started this war when he declared a bet! And now that his mighty horse has fallen, I shall make him pay for daring to think that he can outmatch me! The One! And now! He shall suffer for his misjudgement and watch me eat the spoils of my victory!' He slurped down the glop until all was gone.

Roy watched from the corner of his eyes, his eyes narrowed and his mouth hung open in repulse. Sighing heavily, he put down his bowl.

_"I'm done." _Roy stated as he got up from the table.

_"Done?" _Edward picked up the bowl incredulously,_ "You've only eaten half of it!"_

_ "I wasn't hungry." _Roy said as he left the room.

"Thanks a lot Neo; you put him off his breakfast!" Edward scowled.

'Put him off? It's not like he could understand me anyway!' Neo countered.

"Actions speak louder than words!"

'You gave him too much!'

"Because he hardly ate yesterday!"

'Well, whatever guys, but if no one's having this bowl then it's mine!' Mouse took the bowl out of Edward's hands and started to feast on it hungrily.

'Mouse! That's cheating!'

'Hey, you said nothing about eating leftovers!' Mouse hugged the bowl tight to him. 'Who said all's fair in love and war, huh?'

'Fine!' Neo sighed, 'have the damn ration.' He scowled and Mouse slurped it down his throat.

Edward got up from his seat.

'Edward.' Morpheus tugged at his sleeve, 'If you're going near Roy's room, then tell him he's needed at the top deck. It's about time for his induction.' He let go of his sleeve and eyed him seriously.

'Right.' Edward nodded.

-/\*_;)(-

'Come on!' Sparks called from the Logos. 'You ready to go or what?'

Alphonse stood by the ship, looking back down the corridor for his last view of Zion for a long time. 'Reggie?' Sparks called again.

Alphonse sighed deeply, 'Ok, I'm coming.' He stared longingly back at Zion before stepping up the ramp into the ship.

-/\*_;)(-

_"Roy?"_ Edward peered around the door of his room to find Roy lying on his bed. He looked up at him, waiting for a response.

_"What?" _He glared.

_"Oh, right, Morpheus says it's time for your induction." _Edward looked down out of Roy's gaze as he spoke. Roy's face hardened.

_"What kind of induction?" _Roy asked coldly.

_"To learn the truth about the Matrix." _

_ "Truth? There's more?" _Roy said fiercely.

_ "More than you know, yes." _

_ "I guess I have no choice but to go through with the induction, right?"_

_ "You'll have to if you want to be on the same page as us." _Edward looked into his eyes, holding his ground.

_ "Of course, just like I had to take the red pill! Like I had no choice in that!" _Roy countered.

_ "You did have a choice." _Edward spoke.

_"Not the way that bastard Neo saw it." _Roy growled,_ "He wouldn't let me let those sacrifices go to waste!"_

_ "…I didn't mean for there to be sacrifices. I didn't know the Agents would go so far. I-I didn't know..." _He clutched the door frame and gripped it tightly.

Roy sighed heavily, _"Tell Morpheus I'll be out there in a minute."_

_ "Ok." _Edward nodded quickly to assure himself and turned to leave.

_"Edward!" _Roy called out to him and Edward quickly turned on his heel.

_"Yes?"_

_ "Is this truth…anything like the Gate you saw?" _

_ "…You'll see soon enough." _Edward replied, "_Roy, when Morpheus tells you the truth, please, open your mind to it."_

_ "Open my mind?"_

_ "Don't let it drive you mad. I mean, I know you've had a hard time, because your mind's been too set in your convictions; it's had trouble letting go, so please, promise me you won't lose yourself."_

_ "…I won't promise anything. Not until I hear the truth."_

Edward nodded finally and shut the door.

Roy followed Edward out onto the corridor and up to the top deck; all of the crew were there, waiting around the monitor.

_"I'm here for my induction." _Roy spoke clearly.

_'Of course you are.' _Morpheus smiled.

Roy stepped up to them, _"So, how does it work?"_

'_Firstly, you'll need to lay down in one of these chairs.' _Morpheus motioned to the fur-lined seats behind the monitor. _'And once you're plugged in, I'll be taking you through the Construct; hopefully you'll understand what I'm about to tell you.' _

_ "I've been given fair warning not to lose my mind while I'm here, so yes, I'll try to understand." _Roy stepped over to the seats and lay down in one. _"So I guess this is the part where you plug me in."_

_ 'You guessed correctly." _Morpheus took a hold of a cable hanging at the side of the bed like an unused drip, and began to position it. _'I'll ask that you relax yourself for this one.' _Morpheus smiled and he began to insert the probe in the back of his head. Roy's eyes widened, he gripped the chair arms frantically.

_"No! Stop! This is-! I don't know if I want this!"_

_ 'Roy! Please relax! The more you resist, the harder it'll be!' _

Edward frowned and finally stepped up to the seats and took the data probe from Morpheus.

_"Edward! What are you-?"_

_ "I know you don't like me!" _Edward started, _"But you chickening out is not going to make things any easier for you or for us, so I suggest you start cooperating and start relaxing!"_

_ "As if you can tell me what to do!"_

_ "You're right! I can't! But guess what? As hard as it is to believe, we are the same rank here, and as much as you don't want to hear it, I got you out which means I'm responsible for whatever you do on this goddamn ship, ok? You piss on the seat, I wipe it up! You kill a guy, I take the sentence! You got it?" _

Roy stared at him in disbelief, a blush began to form on his cheeks and in retaliation one broke out on Edward. _"S-So, just sit back and relax, ok? You'll feel it, but it won't hurt."_

Roy nodded slowly and gulped as he rested back. He shut his eyes, waiting. His face screwed as the probe entered forcefully. He grunted in pain,

"_I thought you told me it wouldn't hurt!"_ But he had already found himself within the confines of a white void. 

Author's note:

This chapter was named from the song Want by Disturbed from the album Down With The Sickness. I think I chose this one because it seemed to be the most relevant, if you say that the lyrics are about Roy from Ed's point of view, of course, from the less sexual connotation that it is referred to in the original song. However, maybe the title wasn't chosen as well as it could have been. For one thing, the song is about a woman, and Edward is unaware of any feelings that Roy might have for him, as the song suggests, and the only way there has been any downright suggestion of any feelings that Roy might harbour for him have been in Chapter 2. Whether these feelings have changed so far, I won't reveal, but I will admit, as you will already have seen, they are strained. But as far as chapter titles go, this is the closest to its lyrics and the contents of the chapter.

This chapter was one I had the most trouble with, especially when my school computer decided to die part way through the chapter, so I had to rewrite what I had lost and more. Then I saved the previous file over the updated one, and that was a bugger to rewrite, especially since I was partway through the difficult conversation with Neo and Edward. I had to remember what Neo needed to say, how Edward would react and how Neo would contradict himself. It was very difficult and disconcerting. I almost gave up on rewriting the chapter all together. But that would've meant the story would've stopped, and that would've been bad news for you guys so, with that in mind, I plodded slavishly through the chapter up to the end of the conversation, rested, and thought "Yes! Now I can carry on!" And speeded through the rest.

I've heard of authors being very depressed after losing their notebooks and files, and often when you hear of it you think, "No, that'll never happen to me. I'm always careful. No one's stolen from me yet and I always save my files!" But to have it happen to you and twice no less, it's very hard to come back from it, and you just want to lie down and cry because all of your hard work has been for nothing. Very depressing, but I managed to get past it. How I managed to kick my ass and do it I don't know. Now that I've found that out though, I should apply it to my schoolwork!

The Wikipedia site gag was something that I came up with on the spot, as I do most of the plotline, but I kid when I say its hell on earth. It's actually quite a blessing for those who want to research stuff, such as myself, but the problem with it is its reliability. Even though anything on Wikipedia can be changed or added to make correct articles that are helpful and useful, there are just as many people out there who can and _do _change information on it to make it wrong. Especially teachers (and their friends) who change information on Wikipedia deliberately near exam time so that they can catch out who's been doing last minute revision on Wikipedia and who's been gullible enough to believe it (obviously if their students had been doing the revision a while before exams, they wouldn't need Wikipedia and they would know which parts were true and false). It's not just teachers who do this; it's those who are bored and procrastinating! If any of you guys out there _do _change Wikipedia articles deliberately for the giggles, then I would advise you rectify it. It's a pain for me, Mouse, Tank and Dozer to do research through the information to find that more than half of it is wrong. Thank you.

And remember, "Don't be a Procrastinator, help the Operator!"

I'll also admit this, because I got a review once about this, that there will be a lot of people who understand the Matrix franchise better than I do. I say this because a reviewer told me that s/he didn't understand the Matrix franchise anyway (not a lot do), but understood it from how I'd written the story so far (this was a review for a chapter between 1 and 7). I'll say that a lot of the research I do on the Matrix franchise (so that I understand what I'm writing myself and so that other people don't beat on me saying that this is so f***ing wrong!) is done on (a branch of Wikipedia) and the matrix scripts (particularly the first film one so far; you'll find that one of the things Neo says is from the first movie, coming from the lips of Trinity around the beginning. Prizes for guessing which bit!). That's what I mean by Wikipedia being a blessing. I trust that information, so no changing it!

News alert: This is the longest chapter yet! It totally beats chapter 6 to the ground!

Don't expect an update for a few weeks. Maybe not for another month? I would just expect a huge gap right about now.

Nah, I'm kidding. I'll update this in three weeks. This won't be a consistent thing, but it'll be me implementing a new rule. I've decided that, when a chapter reaches to or over twenty pages, you can expect to wait three weeks for an update. If it's over 10 pages then you can expect to wait two weeks. Any less and it's just one week. Since this is 21 pages, this is a three week wait. I'll give you guys a date to expect an update.

As I may have already mentioned, the reason I'm updating the chapter sooner than usual is because of a singing project I'm doing all day tomorrow. Of course, that is going to take up my time and it would've meant I wouldn't have done a very good job on the editing process, which I have done now; hopefully that comes through. Now, as my final request of the day, I would like all who read to give me a review, because as you should all know by now, I don't update until the last chapter gets a review. Now, I know the last chapter warranted reviews, because I got three! I even got a reviewer saying that chapter 11 was their favourite chapter so far, which I'm very pleased about, because it means I'm getting better as the story's going on. I'd love to hear your thoughts; which is better, chapter 11, or chapter 12? Don't delay!

But, thank you for reading this far!

Ophelia Davis

Extra note: I don't actually know if you appreciate how hard I work to write these chapters, and to be honest, I never actually gauge for myself how hard I work. That was until very recently, I suffered from symptoms of feeling faint and light-headed, the day after came the headaches and the lights in my eyes. That was my first experience of over-working, and as such I was banned from the laptop/computer for the rest of the week so that I could recuperate. I was able to work out a major plot to come in that time, but I wasn't able to finish chapter 15 in that time like I had hoped. So, now you know how much I dedicate my energy to this fan fiction.

But, on the brighter side of things, I now have a very clear idea of what I'm doing for the next chapters, maybe going as far chapter 20 and beyond. I'll admit though, I already have a vague idea of how the fiction is going to end and the plot points in between, but never the detail. Now I've taken up too much of your time. I'll let you review now and thank you for reading this far!

Watch this space! Chapter 13 will be out on the 26th March 2011 UK time! There, that's a fair fixture.


	13. Violence Fetish

"_For though we love both the truth and our friends, piety requires us to honour the truth first." - Aristotle_

The phone rang, and his whole body jumped. His dark eyes wandered towards the producer of the ringing, his breathing quick and huffing. His lips pricked up at the corners and slowly, with a shaking hand, let go of the mouse and wrapped his fingers around the receiver. He slowly raised the receiver to his lips and spoke.

'…Hello?'

_'What was the hold up?' _A deep voice barked angrily.

'S-Sorry Flint, sir. N-New job and all…'

_'Well keep your head screwed on. This is a dangerous game we're playing, and that's Captain Flint to you.' _The voice reprimanded.

'Yes Captain Flint.' He sighed.

_'Now, Link, are there any Agents nearby?' _

Arresting the phone between his ear and shoulder, he scanned the screen, tapping on his keyboard. 'None Captain. You're safe.'

_'Good, I'll give him his options soon.' _

'Yes, Captain.' A low buzz came from the receiver and, sighing, put the phone down. He let out a sigh of relief and he could no longer hold back his grin.

_Yes Link! You've finally done it! _He wanted to cheer it so much from his inner elation, but he feared that his strict Captain would hear him from inside the Matrix. He didn't want to risk a court martial. But his elation couldn't be restrained within. _After all that hard work! After all the hard work you put into your training, after all the competing you did for this spot, and now! You're aboard a ship as an operator, right where you belong! Tank and Dozer will be proud! I just know it! And if not, I'll show them how great I can be! _He punched the air, laughing loudly. The Captains body twitched suddenly, and his hands covered his mouth in alarm. He peered at it, curious. But he breathed finally, _Phew, normal body functions. _

-/\*_;)(-

The portly man stirred in the armchair, a hand went to his head of short brown hair, scratching it in his grogginess. Pulling his hand away, blood and hair stained his palm. His small eyes widened behind his round glasses in shock. He looked up to the man stood over him, dressed up in a maroon jacket and deep red-tinted sunglasses. The man had shaggy brown hair and stubble. He was well-built and thin, but the man's very shadow caused the fatter to curl up against the armchair.

'Y-You're not g-going to k-k_-kill _me, are you?' The man's moustache quivered.

The tall man smirked, 'Well that depends on your choice, Hardin.' He stepped back and sat down in the armchair before him. Hardin stared at him, disbelieving that the man was backing away. He cautiously placed his feet back to the ground, but his shaking wouldn't cease. His shorts squeaked against the armchair's leather material. Looking down, his face coloured in embarrassment. They were soaked. 'W-What do you want with me?' He stuttered.

'I've seen you use the EPOs. They gave you a glimpse of the truth; they could access things that no other operative has been able to access before. In short, you could be useful to us and the war that we fight.'

'W-war? I'm not fighting any war!' The man cried.

'Well, those choices are still up to you, but please, hear me out. I haven't just seen your EPOs at work.' The man smirked. 'Every day you come into work at 6am sharp. From morning 'til 11pm you sit at your computer, drinking your coke and eating your big macs that you have delivered to your door by some poor fast food restaurant staff who probably has more useful things he could be doing than delivering to a fat piece of lard like you. Every day it happens, from Monday 'til Saturday, and what do you do on Sunday?'

Hardin stared at him in amazement.

'No,' the man continued, 'I'm actually asking you, what do you do on Sundays?'

Hardin coughed and muttered, '…Sleep in 'til 4pm…?'

'Sleep in 'til 4pm.' The man shook his head in disappointment. 'There is so much more you could be doing with your life. So much more, and here you are, your brilliant mind wasting away.'

Hardin looked at him confused, '…wasting away?'

'Your mind must be straining to do anything beyond what it already knows.' The man sighed, 'I'm sure you know that a human only uses 10% of his brain, and well, if this is what your 10% looks like then I'd hate to see the other 90.'

'What are you doing here?' the portly man's nerves began to calm, his shaking stopped for now.

'I'm offering you a chance to be a greater man, even a hero to our people. Your EPOs and interrogative agents, if inserted into the monitors of our ships, could keep a track of machine activity. All sentinel attacks that can be avoided will and they could be used to save countless lives! You, my friend, were made for greater things than sitting on your ass! Well, sitting on your ass would be what you'd be doing anyway, but your ass will be saving lives!'

'A hero…? Me…? Saving…lives?' Hardin could hardly believe it. He didn't know whether it was the head injury or the blood loss he was suffering from, but his face brightened in excitement, enticed by the idea. 'Count me in!' He cried, 'I'll be your hero! Just what do I have to do? I'll do anything!'

The man's smirk grew, 'Excellent, you may call me Captain Flint! And now next comes the pills, although, this shouldn't be a hard decision to make for you now, should it?' he tucked his hands into his pockets and brought out the two pills. Hardin stared at them, amazed. In the left hand was a bright blue pill the shape of a cod liver tablet, and in the other, a pill of the same shape, but for the point that it was a swirling colour of blood red and burgundy. His skin pricked unsurely and all senses screamed, _Take the blue! Do the only good thing you've done in your life and take the goddamn blue!_

'These are your choices.' Captain Flint began, 'Take the blue pill in my left hand and everything stops here. You'll forget our whole conversation, forget the agent attack and you'll go back to your job at 6am tomorrow morning and order yourself a big mac with extra fries because you'll feel extra shitty. However, take the red pill in my right hand and your new life will begin. You'll learn everything you need to know, put your EPOs to great use, become a hero of the people and maybe even lose a little weight while you're at it.'

'Y-You really think I should lose weight?' Hardin looked down at his swollen stomach sitting behind his greasy white shirt and tugged at it. His blubber trembled from the attack.

'Couldn't hurt.' Captain Flint raised his eyebrows, 'ten or twenty pounds would certainly help. But just think of how much sexier the Zionites will find you.' He sneered.

A blush came up on the man's cheeks, 'A-Are these Zionites…sexy women?'

'Sexy? Are you kidding? They are _smoking hot_! And you should see them on the holidays. Some days you'll be wondering whether it's the beach season or if you're living in a _nudist _colony!'

Hardin's face grew a brighter red. He reached out for the red pill, but Captain Flint pulled his hands away. 'Now, are you sure you want to do this? Won't you regret your old life?'

'Regret? Are you kidding me? This is just what I've been waiting for! A chance for me to shine, baby! Give me the red pill!'

Captain Flint smile grew, 'Then take it; take what you deserve.'

Hardin grabbed the red pill from the captain Flint's hand and swallowed it eagerly.

'Water?' Captain Flint offered him a glass of water that had been stood by the side of his armchair for this moment. Hardin gulped it down in one mad rush, and let out a satisfied gasp, wiping his mouth on the back of his chubby hand.

Captain Flint pulled out his cell phone, dialled the number and placed it to his ear, waiting for an answer.

-/\*_;)(-

Hearing the phone, Link picked it up immediately and forced it to his ear, 'hello?'

_'Ah, you're reaction time's getting quicker.' _He could hear the grin in the man's voice.

'I always strive to do better, Captain.' Link smiled.

_'That's what I like to hear, now, start tracing the power plant for Hardin's signal.' _He continued in a voice of authority.

'Yes Captain.' Link began to tap on the keyboard, his eyes scanned for anything, any trace of him he could find. His eyes grew, looking severe. 'Captain? I've found his signal but, nothing's being disrupted.'

_'What? Please tell me this is a beginner's mistake.'_ He replied wearily.

'It's not a mistake! His signal is the same as everyone else's in the pods! His carrier signal has not been disrupted! Something must be wrong with that pill!'

_'Wrong? It can't be wrong!' _Screams rose from the phone's receiver. He drew it quickly away from his ear. His eyes went straight for the monitor screen, but he couldn't believe it. _My…God…_

-/\*_;)(-

Captain Flint stared at the screaming mass on the floor. Hardin's body was contorting, convulsing, blood burst from his pores. His screams wretched the air and strangled the atmosphere. Flint stared in horror, _why is this happening? This isn't supposed to…_. His cell phone dropped out of his finger's loose grip. Hardin's neck stretched to stare at the man he was beginning to trust. His face was wet with blood and tears, red electricity curled around him.

_'I-Is this…' _Hardin gasped, _'supposed to hap- AAHHHH!' _Blood poured from his mouth, his eyes cried red. _'Make it STOP!' _

Flint backed away, his legs crumpled weakly against the armchair and he fell into it. His fear arrested him there.

Suddenly, the convulsions ceased, the blood ceased to spill from his ruptured skin. The man seemed like a crumpled mess of flesh, blood and death. The man had stopped breathing. Cautiously, Flint reached out with his foot and kicked the man's sagging stomach. No reaction. His teeth clenched angrily and his hand scrabbled for his cell phone.

'Shit! Shit! SHIT! This isn't good! I've got to alert everyone else!' His hands shakily tried to dial the numbers, but his thumb slipped onto other numbers, scrambling the number. He shook so much that he had to let it go. He threw the cell phone to the floor in his frustration; it skipped across the puddles. 'Shit! Calm down! CALM DOWN! This isn't Rocket! This is _not _the Mariner! You can do this!' In his frenzied reassurance, he heard the floorboards creak and he turned his head sharply. The mass of the man was up on his feet; his moustached-lips had grown into a large toothy grin.

"Finally…Father…" His husky voice carried the echoes of something much more sinister. Captain Flint stared at him in a mixture of disbelief and confusion. "I had faith…and it made me well…!" Volts of red electricity wrapped around his body as it did before, and quickly his body contorted. His chubby hands grew smaller, his stomach shrunk into his waistline, his face thinned out and his brown hair grew longer, deepening in colour. His fat stumpy legs grew thinner, longer and more defined and his whole body was becoming that of a petite, more muscular figure. His wet greasy clothes shrunk and became black and skin-tight. A head band formed around the person's head.

Captain Flint scrabbled madly once again for the cell phone, he dived across the room, skidding in blood and picked it up. But the cell phone had shattered into plastic and metallic electrical pieces. He cursed angrily and turned to find the young figure standing over him. His malevolent sneer made his blood run cold. He tried to crawl away, but the young man weaved his fingers into his hair and tugged tightly. Captain Flint cried out in pain, his face screwed up in wrenching agony.

"Someone was about to be a bad boy." The young man grinned, "Now, please tell me, where am I?" But Flint grinded his teeth angrily, holding his tongue. A deep frown cut into the young man's face, "I was asking you nicely before, but since my manners won't work on you, I'll just have to use force instead." He drew Flint's head back and smashed it into the floorboards. The force drew blood and screams of pain as he writhed against his fingers.

'I'm not telling you ANYTHING!' Flint screamed.

"I'll ask again shall I?" the young man yelled, "Where am I?" and he smashed his head again. Flint gasped in pain, spitting blood.

'…N-New York,' he breathed.

"Going to have to be more specific than that!" He gripped the man's hair tighter until he screamed.

'New York…United States…North America.' The young man tugged the man's head closer to his face, his mouth close to his ear.

"So this isn't Amestris…?"

'W-What's that…?' Flint replied through gripped teeth. His shattered sunglasses fell from his ears and onto the floor.

"Excellent." The young man grinned, and he released his hair. Flint fell to the floor; his face was drenched in blood, his senses dizzy. The young man turned on his heel.

'W-What…how…wh-who are you…?' The question posed to him stopped him in his tracks and he turned back to the captain, laughing with a maniacal pleasure.

"Me? You want to know who _I _am?" He wrapped his arm around the Flint's neck, hugging it tightly to his body. "There's only _one _thing you need to know. I'm Envy." Gripping the chin, he turned Flint's head sharply with an arresting crack. The man's body went limp and he dropped it with disregard. His body began to transform, and he took on the form of Hardin once again. "This brain seems to know more than his fat-ass body lets on. Let's put it to some use." He grinned and, with coordination, stepped over the body and the puddles of blood.

-/\*_;)(-

Link stared at the still body that lay in the fur-lined chair with a mix of panic and horror, his mouth gaped, and his whole body shook. Captain Flint's corpse was contorted at the neck where, as it shook in its death throes, its head turned sharply with a horrifying crack that made his blood run cold. He had fallen from his wheelie chair, screaming fearfully, scrambling back for the wall.

His breathing heaved, tears welled in his eyes, and his voice was a quivering vibrato as he wept. But his eyes never left the corpse before him.

'My…fault….' He breathed, 'It's all…my fault….I…couldn't…stop it….'More tears drenched his cheeks. His hands curled into fists, and he punched the ground so that his knuckles bled. He fell forward to the floor, staring at the metal floor beneath him. 'Where…to go… where…do I…go…now…?' With each time he tried to shut his eyes from reality, the stench of blood brought him back; with each time that it did, he would remember the corpse still lying motionless on the seat, staring at an invisible event.

Shakily, he brought himself up to his feet, and trudged towards the cockpit. With mechanical motions, he switched off the auto-pilot and before his senses had caught up with him he was turning the ship around back to where it came from.

_They'll blame me. They'll blame for the death of this legend. I'll never be an operator again...My fault… All my fault…_

-/\*_;)(-

'Right! Got it!' Dozer slammed the receiver down and he forced himself past Edward.

"What's going on?" Edward asked frantically.

'He's not taking it so good!' Dozer replied; his hand coiled around the probe and he pulled it out. Roy shot up from his seat, his breathing heaved. He flopped out of the seat. Edward caught him.

"Roy! It's all right." He tried to reassure.

"Get off me!" Roy barked, shoving Edward away. Edward lay sprawled on his back, Roy stood over him, and his eyes were narrow and wet.

'Roy, please, calm down!' Morpheus's probe was pulled out and he stood up from his seat.

"You!" Roy pointed a finger at Edward. "You did this to me!" he grasped Edward's shirt and pulled him up until their faces were just centimetres away.

'Put him down, you can't just lay the blame; you had to know the truth. Just accept it.' Morpheus placed a hand on his shoulder. Roy pulled back his elbow sharply into Morpheus' ribs and the man staggered back into a seat. The same arm flew forward and his fist met with Edward's face.

"YOU'RE THE REASON I'M HERE!" **WHACK!** "I HAD EVERYTHING I COULD WANT!" **WHACK!** "YOU TOOK IT ALL AWAY!" **WHACK!** "I'M NOTHING HERE!" **WHACK!** "HOW COULD YOU?" **WHACK!** "HUH?"

'That's it!' Neo ran between them, grabbing hold of Roy's shirt. 'Get off him! Put him down!' He screamed.

"I-It's…alright…." Edward spat blood, holding onto Roy's shaking arm. His face was a bloody mess. "Y-You have…every right…to be mad…at me." He looked into Roy's eyes where they streamed. "I'm sorry…I deserve…to be punished…."

'No you don't!' Neo asserted, 'He's not worth anything compared to you!' Roy stared at Neo wildly. Trinity, looking from afar, forced herself to bury her confusion.

"That's…not true…we're all…the same…but…for what I've done…I'm lower than dirt…." Edward spat more blood, glancing back to Roy, "You can…walk all over me…all you want…I won't…stop you…." Tears rolled down his cheeks, Roy's eyes grew wide, and his grip began to relax.

Morpheus jumped forward; his arms wrapped around Roy's body and he forced him to the ground. Edward fell from Roy's grip and he was pulled away by Neo. Morpheus had Roy pinned, his face grinded into the floor.

'You do _not _beat on other crew members! Got it? That is unacceptable!' Morpheus shouted into Roy's ear, he winced, but he wasn't fighting. He glanced up at Edward, but his face was turned away.

'Come on, Ed.' Neo whispered in his ear, 'Let's get out of here.' Edward nodded and he weakly got to his feet. The two left the top deck with Trinity following close behind.

-/\*_;)(-

Edward was sat upon the recovery table, waiting with Neo sat beside him. Trinity took out a green box and, before long was dabbing his wound with cotton wool. Edward hissed from the sting.

'That bastard.' Trinity scowled, 'He shouldn't be allowed on this ship if this is what he's going to do.'

"It's alright, really." Edward tried to smile, "I deserved that."

'No you didn't!' Trinity countered, dabbing the cotton with more force, 'that was just senseless violence! He was just looking to vent, and you were the weakest looking thing for him to pick on. He's just a bully.' She hissed; she dabbed the cotton, peering at the blood that came away. She threw it into a bin and picked up another ball, 'Jeez was he always like this before we got him out?'

"No! He's quite calm usually. He knows how to keep his head at least, but if he did lose it, it was mostly…my…fault." Edward sighed.

'We need to keep you two separated as much as we can.' Trinity resolved.

"No, we don't. I'm fine. I can take him."

'Yeah, _sure _you can.' She scowled, taking out a plaster and laying it across his brow.

'Will you lay off, Trin?' Neo glared, 'He's taken his beatings, so can you drop it?'

'I'm concerned.'

'Well don't be.' Neo wrapped an arm around Edward's shoulder and squeezed it.

'What is this all about anyway?' Trinity asked finally, taking out a larger plaster. 'You take a few fists from a thug and you want to leave it? What's up with you?'

Neo and Edward stared up at each other and Edward turned away from her scrutinizing glare with a blush. Neo coughed awkwardly. Trinity frowned, 'You two are hiding something from me, aren't you?'

'It's none of your business, and nothing you need to know, alright?' Neo answered.

Trinity placed the plaster across Edward's cheek, smoothing it over.

"Thanks." Edward murmured, and he made to slide off the table.

'Edward, you don't have to bottle things up all the time, especially in a place like this. It's not healthy. Please, you have to let us in.' Trinity let a small understanding smile surface.

"Thanks," Edward smiled, "but, it's not something I can talk about so easily." It faded and he looked down out of her gaze.

'I'm always ready to listen, Edward, it doesn't have to be hard.'

"I've dealt with it for some time now on my own; I think I can go for a few years longer at least." He dodged past her and walked for the door.

'Edward!' But the door shut behind him, 'What's going on Neo? What's he hiding?'

Neo rolled his eyes, 'You don't need to know! It's none of your business!'

'Then how is he able to trust you?' She scowled, 'A week ago, you two couldn't be in the same room without fighting.'

'Our fighting is old news.' Neo shrugged, 'and the only reason I know is because I guessed right.'

'Guessed what?'

'I'm not saying.' He lowered his head and kissed her forehead, 'thanks for the help, but I still have a few things to sort out.' He stepped for the door, but Trinity gripped his wrist.

'Please, promise you'll tell me what's going on.'

Neo sighed and turned back to face her, 'when Edward's ready to tell, then I'll be.' Trinity let his wrist go and he left the room.

-/\*_;)(-

Neo strode down the corridor, his frustration building; he didn't want to keep this bottled up any longer. His footsteps echoed harshly against the walls. The door came up on his right, left ajar. His hand went for the door handle, but something stopped him. Whimpers erupted softly from behind it. His hand stopped mid action.

Tears, regret…?

He pressed his back to the wall, peering in through the gap. Morpheus was there, he could see him sat on the chair, but not his face, his gaze was concentrated on Roy's form laid out on the bed. The man's lip was quivering, his hand hid his eyes, and tears glistened down his cheeks.

Neo's eyes were wide. His face creased, he wanted his hatred to surface, for him to break into the room and wrap his fingers around Roy's neck, but he couldn't bid himself to budge. What was this…sympathy? His ears tingled, words peered from the door. He leaned in closer to listen.

'_I can understand your frustration, but taking it out on others is not the way to solve this._' Morpheus spoke softly.

"_I-I won't…Riza use to tell me the same thing_."

'_Then if she told you, why did you do it?_' Morpheus spoke, but Roy couldn't find the words to answer his question.

"_My life, everything that I lived for, Riza, every time I put my life on the line…the life I tried to save…it's all a lie…_" he sobbed.

_'I know it's hard to take in, but we have to accept the Truth for what it is.' _

_"A bastard? Like I didn't know the first time._" Roy seethed through his tears.

_'The faster you accept it, the easier it will be for you. I don't mean to be cruel; I'm trying to advice you as a friend.'_

_"Just make it easier…and take me back." _

_'Into the Beta-Matrix?'_ Morpheus sounded astonished.

_"Yeah, you can take me out, so you can put me back in."_

Morpheus sighed lowly.

_Here it comes._ Neo frowned.

_'Roy, once you've taken the red pill, you cannot be reinserted back into the Beta-Matrix.'_ Roy's hand flew from his face and he sat up.

_"W-What…?"_ He hissed.

_'I'm sorry; an older mind like yours is not usually favoured when it comes to freeing them from the Matrix. Their minds have been deceived by the Matrix for so long that it's often hard for them to let go of what they already know for them to accept the truth. But, despite this fact, there is no way to reverse the process. The real world is unfairly unforgiving.'_

Roy's hands creased into fists and shook with anger clear in his face. _'Roy, I've told, you, it won't help to take it out on others.'_

Roy twisted round and his fist connected. His fist bled, his knuckle shook in the groove it made in the wall. Tears flooded down his cheeks, he sobbed softly.

_'I'm sorry.'_ Morpheus sighed; his hand went to the man's shoulder.

_"T-Tell Neo, to stop eavesdropping…"_ Roy hissed.

Neo's back left the wall, hearing his name. Morpheus stood up from his seat and opened the door suddenly. He stared at Neo with piercing eyes, straight into him.

'Neo,' He began seriously, 'don't start thinking that you listening in on someone else's conversations are going to help anything. Do you understand?'

'Y-Yes Morpheus, I'm sorry-.'

'It's not me you should be apologizing to. I know very well that you don't like it when the others walk in on your and Trinity, so don't sink down to everyone else's level by paying them the same respect. You're far above that; you can apologize to Roy later. But for now, leave….'

Neo backed away and retreated down the corridor. Morpheus went back into Roy's room, smiling.

'I've left some food for you by your bed. I'll call you for lunch soon though.'

"…ok." Roy muttered.

-/\*_;)(-

He lay on his bed, staring up at the poster of Simple Plan glaring back from his ceiling. All his other posters stared back at him, their 2-dimensions bore into his eyes with a steely severity that the camera that solidified their existence also knew. His computer was a black screen, the monitor was cold, the screen was dusty, and it had been for some time. He looked down at himself. Jeans, metal chains, a band vest, his whole body baked. Sweat dripped down his brow, his golden hair stuck to it, damp. Black rolled down his cheeks.

Empty; so empty.

He jumped from his bed; his shaking hands took hold of his posters, ripping them from the walls, his screams roared through the room.

_Pointless! All this stuff is pointless!_

His body shook; his hands took a feverish hold of his vest and with new strength tore through the material. It had to come away, his whole body felt on fire. He would burn to death if he left it on. That was how he felt.

New tears rolled down his cheeks, he let his body flop. He fell to the floor, a thud against his side. He gritted his teeth against the surprise of the pain.

'Why…?' He hissed, 'Brother…My little brother…why…?' his sobs racked through his body, so much so he could feel his own soul tremble. The carpet was scratchy against his face, he was glad for the sting, something to take his mind off, even if it was ephemeral. His face rubbed against it, the scratchiness became a minor irritation, and it didn't seem enough. He needed something more. His eyes found the bottom of the bed, and with a shaky hand, he let his fingers guide him along the junk underneath it. His fingers found something smooth, and yet fragile, he pulled on it, pulled until a cracking sound came from it and a shard of plastic.

He gripped it tight, the sharp edges dug into his fingertips until there was a white pressure line where the shard indented his skin. He gritted his teeth against the sting, but it was more than the carpet could offer, for that he was thankful.

He pressed a point on the shard into his skin, pressing as hard as he could bear. The pain flared, made him forget; he just wanted to forget. With his eyes screwed shut, his whole darkness was alive with red, the most alive he felt. Finally, relieving the pressure, his eyes opened to find a tiny red bead and a pink dot for an indent.

_Dammit Vic, you have to try harder!_

He pressed the shard back into the cut, pressing harder still; he let the darkness flood through. Cries of anguish escaped his lips, his tears stained the rim of his eyes black and red; he needed more, more damage, something he could look at to make him forget. With one last yelp, he dragged the shard, screaming as it ripped through his skin. Opening his eyes, the blood was intense, running down his arm from the torn opening of his flesh. His chest heaved suddenly in a rhythmic hiccup of held back sobs; they came crashing from his body, his lips pressed to the cut, and he curled up to it, seeking the comfort he needed. The sobs wouldn't stop, he cried, because suddenly that was all he knew how to do.

'I-It's n-n-not f-fair…w-why…o-oh w-why….' his fists thudded against the floor; he needed the ephemeral to fleet on his knuckles, time and time again and at a constant. Tears, blood, pain…he needed them like a baby needed its mother; dependent.

The door opened behind him, large footsteps ceased just metres behind him; if his ears were open to that, then the pain wasn't working yet. He grabbed for the shard again and with deep screams pressed it into his skin.

'No! Stop that!' The deep voice thundered. A large hand seized his left, and with incomparable force made the shard to fall from his grip. He threw it far behind and took the boy up in his arms, laying him in his lap; he couldn't make his tears stop. 'Shush shush, it's ok now, I've got you.'

'D-Don't let me go! P-P-Please…d-don't let m-me go!' He forced his face into the man's chest, he could feel an organ beat against his head, rhythmic, constant, not a skip, calming…soothing. The man rocked him in fluid motions. His sobs lost their heaving, lost their irregular movement, breathing began to return to its norm. Darkness seeped in once again, the beating never stopped, just faded softly from hearing, until the darkness was so thick that nothing could pervade it.

A flickering light pooled in like a bright beacon, he opened his eyes to find the flickering lamp light that couldn't be fixed. Edward stared at it, lying from atop his covers back in his small room and between metal walls.

_I must've been dreaming…_

He pulled up his arm to be sure and found a plastic prosthetic in its place instead of a torn cut. He sighed lowly.

_Who was that…?_

A knock came at his door, he sat up on his bed and Morpheus stepped in from behind it.

'Edward? Do you want lunch?' He asked.

"Huh?" Edward rubbed his eyes in amidst his drawl. "Oh, yeah, yeah I think I do." He smiled in return. "Just let me…" He yawned, "Wake up first."

'Of course.' Morpheus smiled in understanding; he gazed up to the ceiling. 'We're going to have to get that light fixed, aren't we?'

"Just leave it." Edward replied, "Its fine."

'If you say so.' Morpheus shut the door behind him.

_I'll fix it later myself._

Edward reasoned, and he laid back into the covers.

-/\*_;)(-

His thick fingers thudded on the keyboard. The room was dark around him except for his monitor's glare. As one hand continued to type, the other picked up a cup and sucked on the straw. He sighed with relief and placed it back and pushed his round glasses back up his nose.

"Let's see," he muttered to himself, "this must be the program…set them a location…let's see…err…apparently he made them go here before…so…you made them go left…so let's go right!" His screen was black with reams of encryption, and at its bottom, a grey notice box contained a bar, slowly filling with green.

A rush of steps came up behind him, and he turned slowly in his wheelie chair to face them. Men suited in dark suits, sheening dark green from the light of the monitor. This feeling was familiar, he'd faced them before. Slowly, he stood up, and the man at the forefront of the group perked to a more steely attention. A smirk curled on his lips in new interest.

'So…You're choosing to fight us this time…' The voice drawled coldly, 'Hm, but no matter what you do, you humans never learn. Such a…shame.' His smile reflected his pleasure in placing a word he almost lost grip of.

"A-Actually," the portly man stuttered, hoping to curl up into an invincible floating ball and he shifted away from the monitor but the guns followed him, "I don't want to-." Gun fire filled the air. He screamed as their bullets punctured his blubber; he hit the floor with a vibrating thump, but they wouldn't stop until his head made a satisfying crack.

The leader nodded and one of the men pointed their gun towards the monitor.

Suddenly, a cackle rumbled through the room. All looked at each in confusion, finally facing the mass that chuckled, his body making movements like a beating heart. Red volts flashed and curled around his body. He stood up slowly, allowing the healing to carry on.

The man nodded, and more bullets punctured his chest, but the cackling wouldn't cease. Their guns clicked, their rounds had been emptied. The red volts still flashed, flesh at the rim of their holes began to reconnect. Bone, muscle, tissue flesh, skin, clothing and finally his body shrunk, a ring of red moved up the contours of his body, shrinking away the fat until the ring met his hair line where brown hair grew into long green locks.

"You really thought you could kill me so easily? I'm hurt that you called me human!" Envy chuckled, a large grin on his face. "That's twice you killed me, and still your fingers are itching to draw bullets? Man, _you're _the ones who never learn!"

The man at the forefront narrowed his eyes, though his sunglasses wouldn't show it. His lips turned down into a snarl, 'It seems you're not from this…existence.'

Envy clapped, "Very well done there, I'm _not _from here. I'm glad _someone _cottoned on."

'So you choose to make a mockery of me? That is a fate I wouldn't choose if I were you!' The man stepped forward, fast; his fists flew at his chest. Envy blocked each throw and countered. The man dodged just as well and grabbed an arm. He turned and threw him towards his group. They made ready to catch, but his fingers coiled around a neck and Envy grinned, regaining his footing. The men stood back in amazement. The man in his grip was still a steely mask. Envy's finger pressed harder around his neck, his fingers cut into his flesh. One last effort and the head flew from its neck. It landed with a dull thud on the floorboards and the body slipped to the floor.

They all watched, astounded, Envy waited, but the body did nothing. It lay there as dead as it would ever be.

"So you can't regenerate." His smile curled further, "I have the advantage."

'Where are you from?' The man asked.

"A little shithole called Amestris."

'So you're from the Beta-Matrix.' He replied with caution.

"If that's what you all call it on this end." Envy grinned. "So what do humans call you? _If _you're not human anyway."

'We are Agents of the Matrix; we are the protectors. When the parasites start to develop into diseases, we are the ones to contain it, whenever someone makes a connection to the Real from the Matrix; we are the ones to destroy it. That is our…mission.'

"…It's interesting that you call the humans 'parasites'. We have the same ideals, _almost _the same abilities, and I suppose you see these _parasites _as little more than energy. Am I right?"

'Their existence fuels the sentinels in the Real; the Matrix is merely a pacifier to keep them silent.'

"Then we're on the same level." Envy laughed, "You got a name?"

'Firstly, tell me what you intend to do with that program.' He motioned his unloaded gun towards the monitor. 'You weren't thinking of creating a _connection_, were you?'

"That's a pretty long name for an Agent." Envy frowned.

'Talk!' He jerked gun threateningly.

"You're in no position to give _me _orders!" Envy laughed, "But I like you, Talk, I think I'll keep you around."

'That's not-.'

_'Connection complete.' _The monitor spoke in its mechanical drawl and a window popped up above the black screen of encryption. Without caution, Envy sat back down in his chair and watched the figures moving in the window. A dark-skinned man typed on his keyboard with long dreaded hair and a moustache. Next to him, a similar dark-skinned man was stood by him, only this one was bald. Envy grinned with success and looked to find the Agent with a look of alarm coming from behind those sunglasses, he was sure his eyes would be the same could he see them.

'Morpheus…' His voice seethed with hatred, and he stepped closer to the monitor, making sure the bit-mapped image wasn't lying, 'the sentinels should have destroyed his ship!'

"It seems there's something you want," Envy smirked, "and coincidentally, I have something I want too. You help me get what I want, and I'll get you that guy's head on a platter, how about it?"

The Agent stared at him; the intensity of his gaze was cold.

"Let's work together." Envy offered his hand. The Agent stared at it, but finally, out-stretched his own, shaking it.

'Agent Smith.'

"So that's your name. Then I'm Envy." From his hand, a circle of red encompassed his very being, and soon he was dressed in a dark suit, sunglasses and tidy hair in uniform order. "I would say this is the start of a great partnership."

'That is inevitable.' A smirk lingered on the Agent's lips.

-/\*_;)(-

'Let's begin,' Morpheus began, he stood before them all on the Top deck, 'Thanks to Mouse, we have been able to develop a program for the Construct designed to train you. You see, with each time we've encountered the Agents, we may have survived, but only by a margin. We need to turn that margin into success every time.'

'You mean like an RPG game?' Neo asked.

'Not quite,' Morpheus chuckled, 'More like a simulation. Mouse will go into detail when you get in there, but basically you'll be given situations where you're faced against the Agents and you'll be engaging in fights against them that will grow in difficulty with each one you face. Their speed, accuracy and success rate will increase, but hopefully you'll progress to such a point where any Agent will be a cake walk.'

"I think I see what you mean," Roy nodded, "The military often holds training in the North where they simulate a battlefield in order for us to train and hone our skills of weaponry and tactics in the face of something close to a real war."

'That's exactly right,' Morpheus smiled.

'-Ahem- Show off! –Ahem-.' Neo coughed.

"Well next time, why don't you get a question right?" Roy scowled.

Morpheus rolled his eyes, 'If it isn't one, it's always the other.' He muttered under his breath.

'What was that?' Neo frowned.

'Nothing,' Morpheus smiled, 'Now, let's get you all plugged in.'

Edward shifted for a seat, as did the others, he hoped to sit by Roy, but he'd already taken a seat between Apoc and Trinity. He sighed and sat down beside Neo. Morpheus went by all of them, placing their probes in. Roy stared up at Morpheus with a little hesitation.

'You'll be fine, besides, it's always better the second time round.' He plugged it in and soon all of them were stood in the white void.

"Place still gives me the creeps." Roy growled.

Looking about him, everyone was out of their usual ship clothes and into leather jackets and outfits. He was especially surprised to see Edward in a long, black leather jacket, though wearing his usual black attire underneath and seeing his hair long, blonde and tied up in a braid just like it used to be. Looking down at himself, he was dressed in his usual blue military uniform.

Edward eyed him with a smirk, "Ah, that's going to be a problem." Neo's face creased up with mirth.

"Why is everyone dressed differently?" Roy asked.

'This is our Residual Self Image, didn't Morpheus tell you about that earlier?' Switch frowned.

"Jeez, I stick out like a sore thumb." Roy groaned.

"I'll say." Edward laughed.

'You're going to have to change.' Trinity sighed, 'I'll find you something.' Suddenly, long rows of shelves came rushing towards them. Beside them now, there were long rows of clothes, from jackets and shirts, to trouser and boots. 'Ok,' Trinity stepped forward, looking through the selections, 'What are your sizes?'

"Like I'd tell a woman my sizes." Roy smirked.

'I know Neo's.' Trinity answered dismissively. Roy rolled his eyes, and stepped up to Trinity, leaned in and whispered into her ear. A tiny smile came up on her lips, 'Ok, not a problem.' She shifted through the hangers full of trousers and pulled out a pair. 'There, these should be fine.'

"Thanks." Roy muttered, taking them off her, and before he knew it, his arms were being burdened with a leather crop vest, a jacket and a pair of boots. "Do I really need _all_ of this?" He asked, somewhat flustered.

'Well you're not going to wear those trousers over your uniform are you? And I doubt you'll be running around in trousers alone. Just think of them as necessities.'

"Fine," Roy frowned, "But I'm not getting changed in front of you all. You can find me a changing room."

'Don't be picky, just go behind this shelf. It's not a problem.' Roy sighed, muttered his thanks and made to leave. 'Oh, and one more thing.' She took out a pair of sunglasses from a box on a shelf and popped it on top of his pile. 'If you're interested.' She winked.

Roy rolled his eyes and retreated down the shelf aisle before turning left down another.

"Trinity certainly changed her tune!" Edward whispered to Neo, surprised by her previous tone, and amazed that she could act so calm before the man she was earlier calling a bully.

_Reminds me of the Lieutenant. _

'I didn't expect her to be so…nice!' Neo whispered back a little too loudly.

'What do you mean?' Trinity scowled, 'I am nice!' Neo and Edward cowered under her sunglass-hidden glare.

"Oh!" Edward remembered, and he unsheathed himself of his jacket, "Could you get me a smaller one of these? This one's a little big for me."

'A little.' Neo snorted.

"Shut up!" Edward countered.

'Sure.' Trinity sighed; she hung up the jacket, and pulled out another. 'This looks like your size.' Edward took it from her and tried it on. The jacket fell below his knees and the shoulders fit comfortably.

"Thanks, this is a lot better." He smiled up at her.

'Yeah, at least now you won't have to worry about tripping over your jacket.' Neo sniggered.

"I thought we'd stopped this arguing!" Edward growled.

"No, please carry on." Roy's voice echoed from behind the shelf, "It entertains me to no end."

"That's because all you ever _did_ was poke fun at me." Edward scowled, but Roy laughed in return.

'Come to think of it.' Neo murmured,

"Oh god, don't say that." Edward smirked.

'What?'

"You. Thinking. Need I say more?"

'As I was saying,' Neo carried on, 'Why don't you get mad when Dozer calls you "little man"?' Neo asked.

"If there's one thing I've learned while I've been here, it's that when it comes to Dozer, you do _not _question the moustache. Besides, his accents funny, it sounds cool when he says it." Edward looked away, grinning.

"I see," Roy began; the sound of a zipper disturbed his attention, "so if the military HQ had been making fun of you in funny accents to begin with, we would have had less collateral damage, more funds, more subordinate behaviour and fewer reports of night terrors from the other soldiers."

"Oh come on, that's old news. Besides, I've told you before, there has been no evidence as of yet that links me to the night terrors." Edward sighed in annoyance. "And for your information, it's not the accent that does it entirely; it's the moustache, _definitely _the moustache."

'Are you _done _yet?' Trinity sighed.

"Almost! The vest isn't easy to get on!" Roy shouted, minutes later he called, "Are you _sure _this vest is my size?"

'Of course it is; I _do _look at the labels.' Trinity smirked.

"You can see my stomach for god's sake!"

'It's a crop top, it does that.' She shouted back. Neo was fighting to choke back a laugh.

"You are kidding, right?"

'Not kidding, just finish up.' She sighed.

"Ok, but if this vest makes me vulnerable to attacks then I_ will_ have to get my revenge on you." He smirked.

'Whatever makes you hurry up.' She answered curtly.

'Come on! We're not running on _female _time!' Apoc shouted, tapping his wrist impatiently. All turned to glare at him. 'What? I haven't said anything in a while.' He shrugged. 'Was the comment sexist?'

'Too sexist.' Switch slapped him upside the head.

'Ow! That hurt!' Apoc rubbed his head sorely.

'Shut up, you know you like it.'

"Whertsh*!" Roy sounded, as they heard the sound of leather against leather.

'What are you on about?' Apoc asked, confused.

"Pussy whipped!" Roy sang out as he came out from behind the shelf. His leather trousers clung tightly to his legs, the jacket was done up to a point and, as he walked closer to them, he took out the sunglasses from a jacket pocket and put them on. "Well, what do you think?"

'It's a good look for you.' Trinity answered, and the others nodded in response.

"Fine, but I'm keeping the jacket zipped up." He said decisively.

'No, let's see it.' Neo laughed.

"No!"

'Roy, jacket, undo, now.' Trinity ordered.

Roy blushed a little, "Yes ma'am." He glanced away from them as he unzipped his jacket. "This is _so _not my style." Holding the edges, he pulled them back to reveal a vest, the sleeve holes went from beneath the armpits to the collar bone, leaving his shoulders exposed. The top of the vest hugged around his neck, like a barrier for his jugular. Below the line where the vest ended at the solar plexus, was revealed a lean gut, somewhat defined by muscle lines along his torso and leading down into his leather trousers, which clung tightly along his crotch.

Edward's face glowed a bright red, his blush spread vastly past his hair line.

'Woo-woo!' Neo whistled, 'Trinity, you are a miracle worker.'

'I do my best.' She smirked.

"Are you sure I can't put something else on?" Roy blushed, quickly zipping up his jacket.

'If you've got the gall to ask me for clothes, you can have the gall to wear them.' She replied simply.

"Fine, but this jacket is _staying _zipped up." He glanced at Edward's beetroot face. "What's up with you, Fullmetal? Your face is starting to look like a fire hazard.' Roy frowned and Edward turned away quickly as he smushed his sleeve to his nose.

"I-It's nothing."

"Really." Roy passed him and stood by Trinity. "So what do we do now? Is this the simulation, or what?"

'Mouse must be having some trouble loading it up.' She sighed.

"Must be some bugs with it, don't you think?"

Trinity faced him harshly, 'Look, Roy, just because I picked out your clothes, doesn't mean you can start acting all pally with me.' She hissed; Roy was taken aback.

"I don't think I know what you-."

'You are a bully, and the only reason I helped you now was because I thought no one else would.' She growled, 'And you haven't apologized once to him, have you?'

Roy looked away, "I doubt he'll-."

'There are a lot of things you don't know, _Mustang_.' His surname lingered on her tongue like a throbbing bee sting, Roy was certainly feeling its poison.

Suddenly, Mouse appeared before them wearing sunglasses, a black pin-striped suit jacket and a rib cage shirt underneath, which was tucked into black trousers.

"Well, I'm glad _you _didn't pick out my clothes." Roy smirked.

'At least I'm not the one who looks like a leather-clad gimp-whore!' Mouse stuck his tongue out, pulled down the bottom of an eyelid while his other hand exhibited the middle finger. Roy's face creased in anger. 'Anyway,' He resumed, 'sorry I was late. Dozer and I were just doing some last minute corrections.'

"That doesn't sound good." Edward smirked.

'Don't worry. Everything should be fine.' He cleared his throat, 'Ok, the first thing you need to do before you get in is sort yourself into two groups. You'll be using teamwork, but you'll be competing against the other team.' He smiled, 'Makes it more interesting that way. Shall we do that now?'

"How do you want the teams to be sorted?" Roy asked.

'Well, Morpheus was thinking that we have a One to a team, couples can't be on the same team, and neither will anyone who's not likely to get on with the other.'

'I see what you mean.' Apoc reasoned, 'I'll sort it out. Edward and Neo shall be team leaders.' Edward and Neo sorted themselves into a distance from each other. 'Ed's team is Team Clier and Neo is, well, Team Neo. Are we clear so far?'

"Crystal." Edward chirped, and Apoc sighed.

'Good, now Trinity will go on Team Clier because of Neo.' Trinity nodded and made her way behind Edward.

'That's fair,' Trinity smirked, whispering into Edward's ear, 'if he needed another reason, I would've beaten up Roy myself.'

'Roy and Edward can't be on the same team, so Roy's with Neo.' Roy made his way behind Neo, and both glared at each other as he stood behind him. 'This leaves me and Switch teamless.'

'Well, let's keep it fair.' Mouse decided, 'We'll have a girl to a team. Switch on Team Neo and you can go on Team Clier, Apoc.' Apoc nodded and stepped to his team. 'Ok, even Whore's in a team.' He grinned. 'Looks like we're all good to go!'

"Can you _please _stop calling me a Whore?" Roy growled.

'If you were stupid enough to insult my choice of fashion then that's not my problem.'

"It was a mindless comment, ok? I'm sorry!" Roy huffed.

'Are you _really _sorry? Because if you _were _then you'd take off your jacket and do all of this simulation training in your snazzy new top.' He grinned wryly.

Roy growled, and shook his head, "I don't think so."

'Then you're hence forth a Whore. Get ready to rent out your ass, because I'll make _sure _you're bent over by Team Clier!'

'Come on, Mouse.' Neo frowned, 'This is getting childish.'

'He started it.' Mouse replied simply. 'Now, Whore, would you like to take off your jacket for us?'

'Come on, sissy!' Switch growled, 'Just take off the damn jacket!' She grabbed his hair and yanked.

"OW! OK! I'LL TAKE IT OFF!" Roy screamed. He peeled himself of the jacket, dropped it to the floor and hugged his gut.

'Well, now that we're all in a competitive mood, let's get started with the rules.' Mouse rubbed his hands together, 'when you get into the simulation, you will be in your teams. Your settings will be somewhat post-apocalyptic and even though that'll mean wide open spaces, it also means the Agents will be able to hide behind rubble, so you'll have to keep an eye out. Also, with each time you kill an agent, the skills and speeds of other agents will get faster, as Morpheus already explained. You're teams will be battling against the clock and the one to kill the most agents will win. You also win if the other team dies.'

'What about if there's only one of us left in a team?' Apoc asked.

'Then the remaining member can still gain points and manage to overtake the other team if he or she can because that team member is still in play.'

"Hold on, there's still something I don't get. I thought that if you were killed in the Matrix, then you were killed in the real world because your body can't exist without the mind. Are you trying to kill us all off?" Edward frowned.

'That's where the interesting rule about this game comes in. The Agents' bullets can't kill you!' Mouse grinned.

'Wait, _what?_' Neo looked dumbstruck. 'Explain!'

'This simulation is not just for training you to fight against the agents. It's also a chance to revise that good ol' lesson that Morpheus taught you.' Mouse smiled, undaunted by their surprise. 'Free your mind! Let go of all your fear, doubt and disbelief!' Mouse wriggled his fingers with a spirited grin, to emphasise the magical notion that such a thing presented, even if he was serious. 'This simulation will re-acquaint you with the idea that the body cannot exist without the mind, but also teach you that, if you _believe _you're being shot in the head, then you _are _being shot in the head. The mind thinks it's dead, and so is your body.'

"I don't see your point." Roy narrowed his eyes with scrutiny.

'Ok, Whore, if you let me _continue, _then you will see my point, ok? Good. Now shut up.' Mouse cleared his throat. 'As I was saying, while in the simulation, if you are injured, you have to free your mind and let yourself believe that nothing can kill you, you're untouchable. If you start to doubt that, then the injuries you suffer in the simulation will affect you in the real world. Of course, as a rule, if you _are _shot in the head or the chest, you'll be taken out the simulation because, ladies, it' game over.'

"Don't doubt that you're indestructible; ha, what a joke." Roy smirked.

'Uh oh, looks we have a doubting Thomas in our midst. Don't worry; you'll probably be the first to go.' Mouse grinned. 'Just remember, _free your mind_. _Anything is possible_. You know? Just don't let yourself think that you're dying, because in most cases of deaths in the Matrix, it's the mind that kills you, you follow?'

"Yeah, I think so." Edward nodded, Roy rolled his eyes.

'If you don't doubt it at all, then even _pain _can't touch you.'

'Will believing to be indestructible help you outside of the simulation? In the Matrix?' Neo asked.

'No, chances are, you will die if you get shot in the real Matrix, but freeing your mind will help in your ability to avoid death as much as possible; although, for you Neo, even that might not be a problem.'

'Is that all you needed to explain?' Trinity asked.

'There are a couple things I need to make clear; to be completely fair to everyone else, Neo, no using your superman thing, and Edward and Roy, no using alchemy.'

"Like we can." Edward growled, folding his arms.

"We can't use alchemy in the Matrix?" Roy asked in disbelief.

"As far as I know, we can't." Edward sighed. "But if you're going to start beating me up about it, can you do it later? We have to train now."

"I'll beat you up by winning this simulation game, how about that?" Roy growled, smirking.

"Deal." Edward agreed.

'Ok, here are your weapons.' Mouse smiled, and the shelves shifted past them to reveal a whole library of weapons from AO-222 assault rifles to the Zigana T pistol. 'Take what you want, but don't overburden yourself, you can share weapons with your teammates. Also, ammo is not refillable in the duration of the simulation.'

"So, if we run out of ammo, then we'll have to resort to hand-to-hand combat, right?" Edward verified.

'They won't but you will.' Mouse nodded. 'Anyway, I'm guessing most of you have at least some basic skill of using firearms, right?'

"Thanks to my military training, yes." Roy smiled, taking up a rifle and shouldering it as if to practise his aim.

'Here, put these on.' Trinity gave Edward three holsters.

"Where do these go?"

'Take off your jacket.' Edward removed his jacket and the smaller jacket he was wearing beneath, discarding it. 'Ok, well this is an OWB or more commonly a belt holster.' She took it out of his hands and held it up for him. 'The gun goes into the carrier at your right side. Are you right handed?'

"I can be if you want." Edward shrugged.

'Well, if you can draw it out comfortably, then it helps.' She sighed and she began to strap it onto him.

"What does OWB stand for?"

'Outside Waist Band.' She answered and she took a second strap from his hands. 'This is a thigh holster. It's smaller, obviously, but it allows you to comfortably draw out your gun where your hand usually hangs. This can go at your right side.' She took one strap around his waist and another around his thigh, connecting them in place. 'And finally, these are your shoulder holsters. You wear it like a back pack and it keeps two guns under your arms.' Having being given the holster, he pulled arms through and fixed the strap together. Trinity smiled at the small accomplishment. 'Now we can get you suited with weaponry.' She passed him a handgun. 'Put that in your thigh holster.'

"Right." Edward slotted it in. "Like this?"

'Perfect.' She passed two more, 'For your shoulder holster.'

Taking them up, he crossed his arms awkwardly, trying to slot them in.

"A little confused here." He laughed.

'Here.' She took them from his hands and slotted them in for him. She passed one last one and slotted it into his belt holster. 'And you're all set. I'm keeping you on handguns for now, because they're fairly light-weight and basic.' She stepped past him, picking up his jacket and held it open. 'Arms up.' She ordered and she dressed him. 'There, now no one knows you're fully-armed.' She gave him a small smile.

"Sure, if the long jacket wasn't a big giveaway already."

'As long as you can fight in a jacket, it's not a problem.'

'Ok, are we all ready?' Mouse asked.

They all nodded in response. 'Oh, I forgot to mention. When you get in there, you have to reach for your flag. The first one to get there wins. Clier's team will be red, and Neo's will be blue. Alright, so get ready, because now's not the time for running; now's the time for violence!' Mouse laughed as the white void began to wipe away, transforming into whirlwind of dust-filled skies and a bed rock of rubble. His laughter filled them up, carrying away their composure.

"Is Mouse ok?" Edward asked, feeling the heat of both fear and embarrassment.

'Sure he is,' Apoc grinned, 'it's a fetish for him, you know?'

-/\*_;)(-

He grasped the door handle, opened the door and let his fellow Agents pass through along with Envy. Shutting the door behind him, Envy whistled in awe as he glared about the world he had unwittingly stepped into. The walls were a blank white like an empty canvas and set into their places were dark green doors.

"What do you call this?" Envy grinned.

'This is the Backdoor. Programs such as ourselves can use them to get from one place to another.' His face remained void of expression. They walked some ways along the corridor before he stopped instinctively before a door.

"Why this one?" Envy asked.

'Now that we know Morpheus is alive, we know where they are.'

A sneer distorted Envy's face, "So we can pay them a visit!"

Agent Smith smiled approvingly and opened the door in front of him, 'After you.' He waved a hand, motioning Envy to pass by him.

"Why thank you." Envy nodded, and as he stepped through, red volts curled around his body.

* * *

Author's Note:

Was never really sure how right Morpheus being dubbed "Dream-guy" in Chapter 2 was until I found out...in Greek mythology Morfeus is the Greek God of Dreams!

This chapter is called Violence Fetish from the song by Disturbed from the album The Sickness. This one, for me, suited the chapter perfectly (I come up with the contents of the chapter before finding the song that best describes it, although sometimes, if I hear a song I like and want to turn into a chapter title, then I find a way to fit it into the story line; hopefully though that doesn't seem too obvious). A lot of violent things happen. The death of Hardin (sort of), the death of Captain Flint, Vic slitting his wrist, Roy beating the crap out of Ed, Envy and the Agents and the violent actions of Switch; of course, not forgetting the violent aspects of the simulation and the verbal abuse that gets tossed around these days. Have I forgotten anything? Probably.

Anyway, for those who have read the Matrix comics, you'll know who Captain Flint and Hardin are a lot better than I do, because I myself haven't read them. I just found them on Matrix wikia and they seemed to suit my purpose, especially those EPOs (Evolving Programming Objects). To be honest though, the EPOs were created by Hardin's employee, Peter Schoppe. Also, they only worked in the way that is shown by combining them with Hardin's Interrogative Agents (programmed to travel the internet while collecting data and conducting surveillance. This though isn't really addressed because now that Envy has Hardin's intelligience, he doesn't really need to talk about this (what would be the realistic point of explaining something he already knows to himself?). You'll find out more later on I hope.

This one was certainly longer then I intended, so I decided that now would probably be the time to cut it short, you know, so that you can wait for how the simulation will unfold. Plus, I'll have some ideas for what to do for chapter 14, although to be honest that shouldn't be hard for me. I've probably already told you that I know where I'm taking this fiction, so I have a fair idea of what's going on, even if the real detail of the chapters doesn't come to me until the actual writing.

I'll try and keep these author's notes short for once, so then I'll have something to talk about for chapter 14. Anyway, no omake this time, sorry guys, I'll work one in in later chapters though (and i have!)

*Roy makes a whip sound, but I don't exactly know how to write that sound. Just imagine a whip sound, and you'll get the idea.

Chapter 14 should be up for the 16th April, well, if I'm not hung over or something of the like from an 18th birthday party I'm going to on the 15th. I don't drink, so I'll probably be lucky. Anyway, thanks for your patience in waiting for Chapter 13. This one will be out in two weeks as you'll probably have guessed. Now, I'll let myself get on with Chapter 17. It's a fairly big one for what happens, though others have been dramatic so far, we shall see what it's like once it's up, right?

Thanks for reading and please don't forget to review! Also, if anyone has any questions they want to ask about the series so far, then please don't be afraid to ask. As Tash will know, I will answer any queries you have. They are open for debate, except the ones that could be spoilers for you. I'm not giving away any of the future plot! I'll never surrender! Ha ha ha HA!

Ophelia Davis

Ok, it has to be said! All of you should listen to Rude box by Robbie Williams on the album of the same name. You can surprisingly liken it to the Matrix! In the second verse it goes, "Ok, then back to spaceship. Take both pills, fuck the Matrix." And then, "Ok then, what to do. If you try to jack me I'll rudebox your whole crew." And finally, "Call me on my mobile, not the land line. And jack the main line, at the same time." I just love the references, and the music suits it so well.

Finally, I just got a DS game (pre-owned really) called Lux-Pain. I love it already because it's got such voice actors as Jason Liebrecht (Alfons Heiderich from Conquer of Shamballa, Hei from Darker than Black and Takizawa from Eden of the East), Colleen Clinkenbeard (Riza Hawkeye!), Christopher Sabat (Armstrong and of course Piccolo and Vegeta), Monica Rial (Mei Chang and Dante, different series but still FMA), Greg Ayres (Satoshi Hiwatari from DN Angel and Kaoru from Ouran, though he did voice the lizard chimera in FMA), Todd Haberkorn (Ling Yao from FMA and Hikaru from Ouran), Robert McCollum (the younger slicer brother from FMA), J. Michael Tatum (Scar in Brotherhood and Kyoya in Ouran), Cherami Leigh (Elicia Hughes), Brina Palencia (Nina Tucker), Eric Vale (Solf. J. Kimblee and Zagi from Jyu Oh Sei if you've seen that) and John Burgmeier (Dolcetto in both FMA series and Tien Shinhan in Dragonball Z). So there are a lot of recognisable voices in it; I'm just so pleased that Jason Liebrecht is in it, the voice of Takizawa from Eden of the East! It's a very good 11 episode series if you haven't seen it! And of course, we all remember Alfons Heiderich from Conquer of Shamballa, because that was just an awesome movie, even if it was spawned from the 2003 series (not that i have a problem with it). Definitely worth a check; they'll even be a film called Eden of the East: Air Communication, which retells the episodes, sort of like what they did for Death note. But they'll be two films after that! Can't wait.

Sorry, now for my main point. If any of you have played Lux-Pain, then any help or pointers would be much appreciated. It's one of those games where your actions affect the outcome, sort of like Harvest Moon. You can choose what to say, you're reactions, and many other things like that. It's a mystery game and it plays out like a novel (apparently), but still complicated for a first timer like me. It's my understanding that it came out a while back, so I'm sure a fair number of you who own DS's will know it.

Thanks for reading and for your help should you end my pain over Lux-Pain!


	14. The Game

"_Before all else, be armed." – Niccolo Machiavelli _

The sky above was grey and dust-filled, the clouds stirred as if it were brewing up a storm, but the air was still, breezeless, warm. About them were the large frames where buildings once stood, where some walls were still standing, where rubble littered about their feet; brick, sheets of metal and glass.

They looked about them, stood in their team formation waiting for an occurrence, waiting for something to happen.

Edward glared about him, "Looks like Mouse high-tailed it."

'Smart choice.' Trinity frowned.

'When do you think this thing starts?' Neo asked his team, but no one answered. Roy narrowed his eyes and ran for a wall, ducking behind it and taking out a gun in preparation. Neo rolled his eyes, 'Roy! What are you doing?' He shouted.

Roy's finger pressed firmly to his lips and signalled for his team to duck down behind the wall with him.

'What's up his butt?' Apoc laughed, placing his hands akimbo.

"Roy's in military mode." Edward confirmed; his face went serious.

'Which means?' Trinity asked.

Edward pointed out towards the horizon, in the distance; a glint of plastic caught their eyes. "The mission's already begun." Trinity and Apoc followed the point of his finger and slowly, a breeze began to pick up and the air went cold. The silence they had once been disturbing with their words was no longer being troubled by their voices, but by the footsteps that were slowly nearing closer. A whole line of them breeched the horizon line.

'Holy shit.' Neo murmured.

Suddenly, an agent leaped up from behind Roy's wall, pulling out his gun. A gun shot erupted through the air. He fell to the ground motionless. Roy blew the barrel as if smoke was rising from it, smiling smugly.

'Right in the head.' Apoc whistled in awe.

"Can't say that was hard; are all of them going to be as easy as this?" Roy smirked, rising to his feet from his vantage point.

'You've just raised the bar for us. They get worse with each kill.' Switch growled, 'Thanks to you, the shit just hit the fan.'

"Well we're not going to get any better at fighting if we just sit around avoiding them are we?" Roy shouted. "Neo, you're the team leader, right? What are your orders?"

'We head for the flag, and kill agents as we go.' Neo nodded decisively.

"Lead the way." Roy said with military seriousness. Neo put his back to the wall, and with a cautious glance, peered over it.

Edward shook his head, laughing, "Come on." He motioned for them to follow him and he ran past their wall and further into agent territory. Trinity and Apoc ran up behind him.

'Clier? Shouldn't we approach this with a little more caution?' Trinity asked.

"What's the point?" Edward shrugged, "The agents are going to get us anyway, so the sooner we get going, the more we meet, the more we kill, and the sooner it's over."

Trinity nodded, the edge of her lips perked up. 'Right.'

-/\*_;)(-

'Do you think the flags were necessary?' Mouse asked, spinning around in his computer chair beside Morpheus.

'It gives them a goal to reach, besides kill points. But, I'd like to see what they make of this program. And more importantly, what choice they'll make' he laced his fingers in concentration.

'Choice, Boss?' Mouse glanced up at him with an air of confusion, ceasing his spinning.

'You'll see.' Morpheus smiled to himself.

-/\*_;)(-

Agents jumped out from their hiding spots. Their guns were out and poised. Gun shots echoed. He put his right arm up to deflect them. The bullets hit with a force and ricocheted. With each time he tried to punch forward, another bullet flew for him. An agent ran forward, his bullets traced at Edward's feet, he jumped and flipped back. As his feet hit the ground, he bounced to the air. The agent was just beneath him, looking from side to side.

_Don't' look up!_

The agent glared up and pointed his gun at him.

_Shit! Not now! I'm not dying now! _

A bullet skimmed his side. He put out his left leg and his foot imbedded itself into the agent's face. With a sickening crack, the agent fell and lay on the floor and with some effort, Edward pulled his foot out of the mess. The tread mark was obvious, the blood was unnerving, and the grey matter even worse, but the disfigurement made his stomach turn. He clutched it and tried to avert his gaze, but the mangled face was imprinted on his mind.

"I think I'm going to be sick." His face went pale.

Apoc laughed, patting his shoulder. 'That's a fine job you did, though a gun would've been better.'

"I'm trying to save my ammo for the harder agents." Edward scowled.

'Not a bad tactic then.'

"You could've helped me, you know."

'Hey, your agent, your call. I'm not going to win you're battles for you.' Apoc shrugged easily.

"Wait, where's your agent?" Edward asked.

A bullet hit the back of Apoc's head and he looked up at the wound, grinning, 'Woops.' He fizzed away and disappeared; behind him was the figure of an agent, lowering his gun.

"For god's sake!" Edward screamed and he ran forward.

-/\*_;)(-

Roy held out his gun looking about him with a scanning eye. His back was at a wall. Seeing no agent in front of him, he turned sideways. Nothing. He peered around the wall side, and when he was sure it was clear, moved on forward.

Neo followed him briskly from behind.

'Roy, come on, we're not going to get to our flag any faster if you keep holding us up.'

"I'm using military strategy." Roy frowned, "now are you going to cover me or what?"

'And I thought _I _was the leader.'

"I was a Colonel after all; I'm used to giving orders."

'Well how about we pretend I'm a General and you're a kiss-ass private huh? Would that pull the rod from out of your butt?' Neo sighed.

"Have you got a better strategy?" Roy sighed finally.

'It's pretty simple, I'm sure you'll remember it; basically we run like hell and hope to Zion we don't get our asses kicked by the agents.'

"Or the other team."

'Exactly, so you follow?' Neo asked.

Roy nodded.

'What was that?' Neo asked, grinning.

"I said YES!"

An agent ran towards him and fell just as easily.

'Will you ladies SHUT IT?' Switch screamed. 'For god's sake, make out later! We're fighting _now_!' She poised her gun towards them threateningly.

'Alright! Alright! We'll shut up!' Neo put his hands up in surrender and Switch ran on forward. 'Am I _ever _going to be considered the leader?'

"With an attitude like that, I doubt you'll ever make Major." Roy smirked.

Three agents ran for them. Roy shot at one. The bullets hit its arm and it dropped its gun in response, but the agent carried on forward, diving into him and knocking the gun from his hand. Roy struggled under his power, trying to push him away. The agent's fist ploughed into his face. Roy yelped against it as if a concrete block had punched him. He spat blood and the fist beat him again.

"These bastards have gotten stronger!" Roy shouted to Neo, who was fighting hand-to-hand against two other agents. He blocked the punches and kicked one into the other, sending them reeling into a wall. A cloud of dust surrounded their collision, causing the wall to crumble into debris.

'I bet Switch has been on a killing spree!'

"Either that-." Roy grabbed the agent's hands, trying to fend off more punches, "Or the other team is _really _good!" Roy sounded through gritted teeth. He began to kick madly into the agent, the recipient grunted against it, the most expression he'd had out of the bastards.

'Come on, man. You don't hit a guy there, not even an agent. That's just cold.' Neo shook his head in disappointment.

"At least we know they _have _balls." Roy smirked, kicking the agent off him. His hand went to his thigh holster and he shot as the agent dived back onto him. The agent fell dully to the ground. Roy got up and brushed himself off, spitting more blood.

The two other agents got up from their collision against the wall and came at them both. As one tackled into Neo, Roy took on the other, grabbing his arm and pulling him away. He aimed his gun and shot, but the agent dodged easily and came at him with greater speed. His fist hit Roy's stomach and Roy screamed as the force sent him flying back. He fell onto rubble. Blood gushed from his mouth and he contorted his face in pain as a sharp throb hit his back. He looked down with wide eyes. A thin white pole was poking through before him, the end soaked in his blood.

-/\*_;)(-

'You sure were careless, weren't you Apoc?' Mouse frowned. 'You were killed off too easily.'

'Yeah, yeah, I know.' Apoc smiled, 'It was a beginner's mistake, ok? First time round through, you know? Call it a practice round if you like.' He shrugged away his mistake. 'I'll get better if I go through again.'

'You better hope so,' Mouse frowned.

Morpheus turned to look on at the crew in their seats, but his face creased up seriously, 'Roy's taking a beating.' He watched as blood slid down the man's mouth, the body shook with the force he took on.

'He still doubts, doesn't he?' Apoc sighed.

'Get him some first aid, wipe the blood away.' Morpheus ordered. Apoc jumped from the top deck down to the corridor and ran for the kit.

Suddenly, blood gushed up from Roy's body. It leaked from the seat and onto the floor.

'Shit!' Morpheus growled. 'What happened?'

'He's been impaled on a pole!' Mouse yelled.

'Dammit!' Morpheus grabbed hold of Roy's shirt, ripping it apart. He clasped both hands over the wound, trying to stop the bleed. 'Apoc! Where's that kit?' He screamed.

'Sorry Captain, I've got it!' Apoc yelled from the corridor as he made to clamber up the ladder.

'You're going to need more than a kit for that!' Mouse panicked.

'It's called first aid for a reason Mouse!' Apoc shouted, seeing the severity of the wound.

'We've got to get him out!' Morpheus yelled at Mouse.

The teenager looked up to him, his hands were shaking, he tried to type, but the wrong keys were being pressed. He took his hands away trying to hold back the sobs. 'I can't!' He yelled suddenly, 'I'm sorry, I can't.' Mouse trembled.

Morpheus sighed seriously, 'It's alright, but if he dies, then on your head be it.'

-/\*_;)(-

He forced himself up onto his feet; his legs were weak and shaking. Blood leaked from the wound with each footstep he made. Sweat clung to his brow, his hand clutched around the pole and against the wound. As the agent fell dead at Neo's feet, he looked up at Roy, his eyes wide.

'ROY!' Neo screamed. The agent glared at Roy, a smile formed on his lips. He raised his gun to aim. 'NO!' He jumped forward and knocked the agent's arm. The bullet fired and flew far past Roy. Neo's elbow flew into the agent's face and he fell back into him. Neo grasped the agent's head and twisted his neck suddenly. The agent went limp and he dropped him. Roy looked on, nodding in thanks, his stance became weaker and he could feel the gravity pull him down.

Neo ran forward and caught him, pulled his arm around his shoulder and gave him support.

"Thanks." A small smile crept onto Roy's lips and his eyes remained downcast.

'You're lucky to be standing.' Neo growled. 'Damn, why haven't they taken you out yet?'

"Huh?" Roy glanced up to him.

'Mouse and Morpheus! They should have taken you out of this game! This is far from a simulation!' He gritted his teeth angrily.

"L-Looks like-." He winced from the pain, "We'll have to…carry on…" He looked out in front of him, "towards the flag…"

'Always got your eyes on the mission, haven't you?' Neo sighed. 'You must've been a tenacious bastard on the battlefield.'

Roy chuckled lowly before coughing. Blood spilled and congealed in the dirt. "Something like that. Now…come on." They both staggered forward, Neo supported the new burden, his eyes fierce.

-/\*_;)(-

Edward fought off another agent, bending low and kicking up into the agent's neck. The agent flew back into another. Another flew forward and Trinity shot it out of the air.

'I think now's the time you used your ammo!' She screamed amid the fray. She kicked forward; her leg wrapped around the agent's neck and sent him to the ground. She finished him off quickly. She was suddenly pulled back and spun away. She flew a great distance before landing into the rubble.

"TRINITY!" Edward screamed as many agents ran forward for her. Gunshots echoed from their barrels and they chased after her. But he wasn't left alone.

A fist flew at him and he stepped out of the way frantically. The barrage of fists kept coming and suddenly he bent far back out of their reach. He waved his arms madly for balance and his back sprung up straight. A fist hit him across the face and he flew to the side into a wall. He fell to the ground, getting up and spitting the blood from his mouth.

_Free your mind, free your mind!_

The hot pain in his face grew warm and soft. He ran forward, flinging a foot in his chest. The agent grasped his ankle and held the foot there, a smile creeping up. Edward tried to remove his foot, struggling to keep his balance on his right leg. The agent twisted it; the force lifted Edward off the ground and spun him. A well-placed kick sent Edward flying further afield. He skidded onto his side, wincing in pain. He glanced up from where he was. Two figures came lumbering towards him. He picked himself up with effort. Blood was coming away from his forehead, bleeding into his eye.

They were probably 50 metres away. Neo and…Roy? His eyes grew wide, sweat dripped coldly down his neck and a chill spread through him. Blood leaked from his gut and dripped off the pole that was arrested in the man's body.

He could see Roy's eyes narrow, his face creased in anger, his teeth clenched. His face was wet with sweat. Slowly, his hand clenched tighter around his gun. Roy raised it up, straight at him. He could see the hole of the barrel; the gun was aimed straight for him.

"R-Roy?" He whispered. A lump grew in his throat; his eyes grew hot as if his eyeballs were melting. Liquid slipped down his cheeks in response. He could see him shake, his gun hand was unsteady; his aim was ever-changing.

_The Agent's bullets are useless, but could our bullets kill us? Do you know about that?_

Roy pulled the trigger suddenly. It cut through his thoughts. It cut through the air at rapid speeds. The bullet whizzed towards him. His whole body went stiff. He couldn't move. He couldn't breathe.

The bullet whistled past him. So close to his ear he could feel its force radiate from the metal object; the power to kill, the power to fly, all rolled into one and whizzing past him. He heard it hit, heard it cut through flesh. Something fell, the thud echoed behind him. He turned his head, slowly, and found an agent some metres away where the force had knocked him back. Blood leaked from his head, becoming droplets in the dust, staining the rock and injecting colour into the bleak battlefield.

A gasp escaped his throat, the tears stung his eyes further, a sob crawled shakily from his mouth and he turned back to find Roy and Neo closer to him. He forced his feet to move and his legs to stop shaking and ran towards them. Neo stopped before him and Roy slipped from his support. Neo made to catch him, but Edward caught him first. He tried to straighten himself up, tried not to rely on Edward's strength, but the pain arrested him.

"W-Why…?" The words slipped from Edward's mouth, cowering.

"That's…my apology…for beating…on you." Edward caught a glimpse of a smile in the corner of his eyes. "Can you…accept or…?"

"Of course I accept." Edward's arms wrapped further around him, but Roy pushed him away, he tried once again to straighten himself up.

"I only…did that…because I owed you." His face creased in severity and his arm went back for Neo's shoulder. Neo put an arm around his waist and held him up. "The time…could end…soon…. Have to…keep moving." Roy growled.

'No, we need to rest.' Neo said assertively, he lowered Roy to his knees.

"Humph…still… don't get… a choice…" Roy smirked.

'Shut up, we need to do something about this pole.' Neo growled, shooting a commanding glare at him. 'I'm still the team leader; I don't care what medals you've won before; here, what I say goes.'

"We could break off some of the pole." Edward suggested; his jaw worked anxiously, "To make it lighter for him."

'We haven't got anything sharp, and a gun would be too dangerous.' Neo frowned.

"If I could use alchemy, then I could break it easily." Edward rubbed his chin in thought.

'What about your auto-mail?' Neo asked.

"What?"

'The metal will be stronger; you could break the pole off with that.'

"Roy, what do you think?" Edward asked.

"Do…what you want." He grunted. Edward nodded. He shifted around to get behind him. It was clear now, it was a flag pole. There was still a piece of rope secured to the end on a metal loop that Roy had been dragging behind. Carefully, he grasped the pole a little distance from the wound. In his auto-mail hand, he took hold of the pole some distance from his other hand.

"Ok" Edward sucked in deep breaths, hoping to steady his shaking hands. "I'm going to do it, you ready?" He saw Roy's head nod, his breaths were shaking, his chest heaving. "Keep him steady, Neo."

'Right.' Neo nodded and he shifted to face Roy, arresting his shoulders. He began to mutter comforts, 'just keep looking at me. It'll be over soon.'

"I'm…not a kid." Roy smirked.

'You're stubborn.' Neo growled.

Edward smiled to himself, watching Neo give Roy support.

'You ready?' Neo barked and it snapped Edward out of his stupor.

"Sorry, still woozy."

'Just concentrate.'

Edward nodded, "Ok," he gripped the pole tighter, Roy grunted as he felt the extra pressure on the pole. "On three… one…two…three!" His auto-mail hand began to bend the pole, hoping to break it apart. The pole shifted inside him, Roy gritted his pain, grunting and yelping as the pain coursed like electricity through his body. Neo gripped his shoulders tighter.

'It's alright.' Neo growled.

Edward gripped it tighter and pulled harder on the pole. Stretch marks began to wrinkle up on the pole; he pulled harder still, a glimmer of hope curled up warmly in his gut. It stretched further; the pole began to crack from the pressure. Roy screamed as the pole twisted inside him.

"We're almost there! Just…a little…!" The pole shattered beneath his auto-mail fingers and he ripped it away. He threw the pole end and it bounced lightly in the rubble. He let the pole go and breathed a sigh of relief. Neo loosened his grip and Roy bent over double, coughing, grasping his wound through which blood still trickled lightly.

Edward looked down at his auto-mail hand, and shyly rubbed Roy's back, hoping to ease his coughing, and his pain. The leather beneath his palm squeaked and shone. His fingers travelled up his back and went to Roy's shoulder, and he squeezed it in comfort. Roy flinched from the cold surface as it bit his shoulder and he frowned deeply.

"Come on…the flag." Slowly, he shifted his feet forward and tried to summon up the strength to stand. He did so weakly, his legs shook and Neo offered his shoulder once again as a support for him. Edward's hand had long slipped from Roy's body and he sighed deeply as he got up.

"Which way do you think the flags are?" Edward asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

'Well, we just came from that direction.' Neo pointed to his right, back where the walls were familiar and the rubble was mediocre. 'So I'm guessing we keep going this way.' Neo shifted him and Roy left. 'We'd better keep moving forward.'

"As if we know where the flags are anyway." Edward sighed resignedly.

They carried on walking for a while; they stepped over and dragged on through the rubble. Their feet ached and throbbed hotly in their boots. Roy carried on as hard a he could, offering his own steps rather than suffer the embarrassment of letting Neo carry him like before, but his hold around Neo's shoulder was weak. His head felt woozy, his eyesight clouded and glazed, the world rocked itself uncontrollably before him. Rocking, and rocking, rocking him to sleep. Yes, to sleep, his lids grew heavy; he wanted to shut them completely. No, he couldn't, that was just the blood loss talking. If he closed his eyes, then he'd never wake up. How was he still standing?

'Surely the time must be up by now.' Neo heaved, his brow clung with sweat.

"Maybe we haven't killed enough?" Edward suggested, he pressed his hands in his pockets.

"No…that wouldn't matter." Roy spoke, he had to keep himself aware, keep himself conscious; talking seemed to help. "He said that whoever won…depended on how many we killed."

"Then it's whoever gets to the flags first." Edward affirmed.

'Trinity and Switch must be wondering where we are.' Neo smiled, 'do you think they'll be mad to see we're not working in our teams anymore?'

"Switch will be." Edward laughed and Neo laughed with him.

"She'll probably…beat me up…for slowing you all down." Roy smiled.

'Sounds like her.' Neo chuckled.

Their steps carried them forward. The cool breeze that had blown about them began to still, the air grew warm.

Edward frowned, his brow furrowed. "Something doesn't feel right." He stopped himself in his tracks and placed hand on his brow. He squinted, gazing into the distance. "The agents are gone."

-/\*_;)(-

He wrapped the bandages tightly around him, and carefully, keeping the pressure on, pinned it in place. Apoc nodded at his work, though the blood was already soaking through the padding.

'How's the wound?' Morpheus asked.

'Good, it should do for now.' Apoc rubbed his brow, relieved.

'Mouse, we have to get them out of the simulation.' Morpheus spoke to Mouse calmly by his side, 'we can't perform any kind of surgery on Roy until we do.'

'R-Right.' Mouse nodded, rubbing his eyes of the wet and putting his fingers to the keyboard. He started tapping on it, but his face screwed up into annoyance, and then panic. 'Boss?' he looked sidelong at Morpheus. 'Something's not right with the program.'

'What do you mean?' Morpheus looked deep into the screen.

'Something's messing with the program! I can't get them out! It won't let me! The timer's not even worked! It should've pulled them out half an hour ago! '

'And we can't pull the plug on them either. Free minds or not, it'll still kill them.' Apoc gritted his teeth.

'I don't think it's something.' Morpheus frowned, 'It sounds more like some_one_.'

-/\*_;)(-

"Hey, what's that?" Edward pointed towards something in among the rubble. "Do you think we've walked the whole of the construct?"

'No,' Neo frowned. 'These aren't the same buildings we've walked past.'

"I know that, but that pole looks familiar." Edward left their side and yanked the pole from out of the rubble, wrapping the rope attached to it in a loose coil.

'What is it?' Neo asked as Edward joined them once again.

In his hands was a white pole, one end had shattered except for the other, whereon the rope was connected to a metal loop attached to the pole. The shattered end was decorated with congealed drip stains of blood.

"It looks like the flagpole I tore off." Edward looked up at Neo and Roy searchingly.

Neo narrowed his eyes, 'Déjà vu.'

"What?" Roy glanced up at him.

'This pole looks just like the one we passed. Déjà vu, which means there's been a change in the program.'

"That must be why we haven't seen any agents for a while. Do you think its Mouse's doing?"

'I want to think so, but if it was then we should've been taken out by now; which means there's either trouble on the ship and Mouse is distracted, or there's trouble here and it's stopping us from getting out.'

"Then the only way we'll find out is if we head for the flags." Edward nodded, and he dropped the pole to the ground. They moved slowly onwards.

Just ahead of them, there was a circular arrangement of buildings, built up to the ceilings, but scabbing away with blocks of brick and windows missing from their walls. They couldn't see what would supposedly be the epicentre of the construct for the surprisingly built up area.

'That must be where the flags are.' Neo smiled with a new determination.

"It must be an obvious place for you to get that." Edward grinned wryly. Neo poked Edward, who batted his hand away.

"Trinity and Switch…must be waiting for us there." Roy heaved; he spat blood from his mouth.

"It'll be fine when we reach the flags. You'll be able to rest at least." Edward smiled hopefully and Roy nodded in agreement.

'Wait, don't you think Trinity or Switch would've gotten their flags already?' Neo wondered.

Edward nodded fiercely, "Something's definitely not right."

The buildings were upon them sooner than they expected and they lumbered towards the centre. The buildings loomed over them, blocking the sky except for that thin strip that Edward could make out as he looked up above him. They left the flat jaws of the street, before them was a circular platform and on it was positioned the red and blue flag, held there on their poles by their mainstay in concrete holes in the platform. At the foot of it, Trinity and Switch were sat in front of their respective colours.

Their heads perked as they found their three teammates make it out of the street and join them in the centre.

'You're finally here! Took you long enough!' Switch growled, getting up from her seat and tapping her foot impatiently.

'So you waited for us all this time?' Neo smiled.

'Are you kidding? I would've grabbed the flag and got out of here as soon as I found it, if Mouse wasn't being funny with us.' Switch complained, rolling her eyes as if Mouse's behaviour was typical of him.

"What do you mean…being funny?" Roy grunted as Neo slowly lowered them both. Roy stretched his legs out awkwardly and sat down on the only smooth bit of concrete he had seen through the whole construct.

'Look.' Switch made to grab the pole, but the object's solidity dissipated around her fingers so that her whole hand passed through.

'It looks like a hologram.' Neo scowled.

"That…doesn't sound good."

'What could it mean?' Trinity asked.

"We think someone's messed with the program and it's not Mouse." Edward supplied.

'How can we be _sure _it's not Mouse?' Trinity frowned.

"He and Morpheus can see the state Roy's in." Edward pointed to Roy, who was clasping a hold of his wound. "Even if Mouse wanted to keep him here, Morpheus wouldn't have let him and neither would Apoc, so it can't be their fault."

Trinity gasped as she noticed the pole protruding from Roy's torso and she rushed his side, holding him up. 'How did this happen?'

"After Switch…left; it was an agent…with a good kick." Roy growled and coughed, he hacked up blood onto the concrete.

'I thought Mouse said we couldn't be harmed by the agents.' She growled.

'We can't, but only if we free our minds.' Neo answered, 'I don't think Roy should've joined in this simulation. He'd only just heard the truth. He hasn't accepted it yet.'

"Of course…I haven't…how can you…expect me to…swallow that shit?" Roy sounded it through clenched teeth. Edward looked downcast, his face contorted into concern. Neo glanced up at him, sighing.

'So, what's the plan?' Switch frowned.

Footsteps echoed about the epicentre. Their heads turned sharply towards the owner of them. An Agent stepped forward, but they weren't like the others they had faced, who would run forward with mindless authority. This one sauntered, his face twisted into a cruel sneer; his gaze penetrated them through his sunglasses.

"Shit." Edward growled, readying himself to attack, "another one."

'No,' Trinity reached for a gun, 'this one's not like the others.'

Neo narrowed his eyes, 'Agent Smith.'

'Mr Anderson!' His voice echoed fully before them as he stepped closer. 'I'm so…glad you recognized me. I was beginning to think I had been forgotten.' His gaze travelled along the group, smiling at each member he recognized. 'It's funny, after Mr Elric's journey back to the Beta-Matrix, I was able to spot the ship from where he'd entered and sent a sentinel attack to destroy him, but something wasn't right. It wasn't long after I realised, and of course I thought you were all dead by now, who was on board ship with him. I had to trace my mind back to our first meeting and I remembered who helped him escape. I was…surprised to see you had survived the sentinel attack, because it means we can meet and have a talk like this one. Wouldn't you agree? Mr Anderson? Mr Elric? Colonel Roy Mustang?' He looked at the three pointedly, but all kept their steely gazes, making ready to attack on cue. 'No? It hurts me that you treat me so…coldly.' His once friendly smile dropped into a deep frown. 'Maybe you're in the mood to discuss some terms with me.'

'Terms?' Neo glared at him.

'You see, Mr Anderson, there is something I want, which happens to be the thing you have. Without the thing you have, I cannot gain the thing I want, do you follow?'

"Cut to the chase." Edward growled. "What do you want?"

Agent Smith's lips curled up into a smile, 'I want Morpheus.'

'You'll have to go through us first!' Switch bared her teeth, pulling out her gun.

'I was afraid it would come to this.' Agent Smith shook his head. 'If you hope to escape this simulation, you'll have to get through us too.' From the streets behind him, four agents strolled out. Their guns were ready in their hands. Agent Smith stepped aside and the four agents ran forward.

"Protect Roy!" Edward barked at Trinity, who nodded in response.

"No…" Roy heaved, trying to get to his feet, "We all have to fight…I won't be…a burden."

'Spoken like a true martyr.' Agent Smith clapped his hands.

An Agent dived in front of Switch who, wielding her gun, shot at him. The Agent dodged the bullets so fast his image was a blur. He punched her chest, sending her flying across the platform and he jumped after her. Another kicked Trinity away, sending her rolling to the side. She shot for him, but it was pointless. Her gun clicked as she frantically pressed the trigger; she was out of ammo. She bared her teeth in frustration and got to her feet. She lunged at him; the Agent ducked and sent a barrage of punches into her stomach. She grunted, blocked one successfully and swiped him across the face. He swiped back and she was knocked backwards.

Neo dodged the blows as fast as he could, knocked the gun from the Agent's hand and sent a kick to his chest. The Agent was flung back in Agent Smith's direction, which stepped out of the way of the comrade-shaped cannon ball.

Edward looked about him with horror, an Agent's foot ground down into Switch's head and she fizzed away.

"SWITCH!" He screamed. That was the only exit out of the simulation, probably why she gave up so easily. Get killed and you would be out, but only a free mind could grant that. He himself could be freed, but Roy? Edward glanced down at the man as he tried with shaking legs to keep his balance. There was no chance.

'EDWARD! MOVE!' A gun shot echoed and he looked up quickly towards the barrel. A great force barrelled into him. He was knocked sideways. The bullet whizzed past him and his back scraped across the ground. He tried to get up, but a weight kept him down. He glanced up, shaking his head from the confusion. Dark eyes stared down at him, his chest heaved breathlessly.

"…Neo?" He gasped.

'You've got to watch yourself Ed. We can't always be there to save you.' A smile flickered on his lips.

Roy stared at them wildly, his teeth clenched in rage.

Edward tried to sit up; they touched cheeks in his efforts, "Neo? I need you to let me up." he mumbled, his face turning red.

'What?' Neo looked astonished.

Edward rolled his eyes, "_Let_ me _up_; not _get_ me _off_! The Agents!"

Neo's face relaxed in his realisation and he nodded, 'Right.' A foot kicked his stomach and he flew off to the side, Edward stared after him, his eyes wide and searching. The Agent grabbed the front of his vest and yanked him up. He found himself glaring into the Agent's shades and a smile creaked on the man's lips. His fist came up, beating him across the face repeatedly, left, right, left, right, until Edward hung there, dazed, grasping the Agent's arm for stability. Blood ran fresh where it had crusted before.

'Will you hand over Morpheus?' The Agent spoke, raising an eyebrow pointedly.

Edward bared his teeth, glaring at him fiercely. "Nev-er!" He hissed. The fist came back on him. His right hand left the Agent's arm, dangling weakly. The barrage ceased and he forced his free hand to move. He spat the blood away.

'Now will you give him to us?_' _

His fingers skittered up his torso, heading for his jacket for cover. "I guess…" A smirk crawled on his lips, "I'm glad you…beat me up…I was able…to clear my head…" He pulled his hand out of his jacket. His pistol was pointed at the Agent's head. The agent raised his eyebrows in slight alarm. Edward's smirk melted away. "But you…can't touch me…" He pulled the trigger. They both crumpled to the floor.

His world kept rocking, he felt like it was going to knock him from his feet. He looked about him madly. A dark-green figure walked for him, coming from the figure that had just disappeared. He shook his head madly, hoping his vision would adjust. A fist hit his face and his vision met clarity. He stared before him as the Agent sent another fist at him. He dodged, jerked his head sideways. He missed the other, jerked the other way. He stepped back, his balance sent him reeling, but he escaped a hit. The Agent ran up with another blow in hand. He twisted down, but yelped at the sudden pressure. He grasped his wound and fell to his knees. The Agent grabbed his arm and with his higher power flung him away.

-/\*_:)(-

Neo got up and watched as Roy was flung towards a street. He narrowed his eyes, looking about him. An Agent had Edward held up, flinging his knuckle across his face and back again. He started towards that direction.

'PLEASE! NEO! HELP!' He turned back quickly; Trinity's voice rang in his ear. She was backed up against a wall. She shrieked as an Agent's fist sent an upper cut through her stomach. Blood gushed from her mouth, she tried to punch back, and her face got it this time.

Neo clenched his teeth in rage and he ran towards her screaming. He jumped for it, positioned his arm out and caught the Agent's neck in the crook of his arm. He twisted it sharply and dumped it to the floor. Trinity hugged him hurriedly, clutching him tight.

'Thank you.' She whispered. Neo smiled with satisfaction and he kissed her forehead sweetly.

She looked up from his shoulder and spoke in his ear.

'I know, I got it.' Neo smiled and he flung his arm back, grabbing the Agent's throat. He squeezed tightly until the bones began to break beneath his grip. The Agent frothed at the mouth, scrabbled at Neo's hand weakly until he fell limp. Neo threw him aside and his arm returned to Trinity's waist, hugging her tighter. He craned his neck and kissed her lips, his fingers laced themselves into her hair.

-/\*_;)(-

The air whistled past his ears and he found himself flying into the jaws of the buildings bordering the edge. The ground came all too soon. The pole dragged across the floor, pulling the other end upwards further into his body. The tug made him clench his teeth sickly. The pole had stopped most of his drag on the ground. He stopped, and as the pole seemed to right itself, it pushed through his gut, more blood gushed. He screwed his eyes, screaming in pain, tears leaked in his eyes. Sobs wracked his body and made the wound hurt more. The blood began to form a warm wet pool beneath him.

His vision fuzzed. Footsteps sounded behind him. Hissing with anguish, he craned his neck back to find his vision filled mostly with blue. The footsteps ceased right behind him, and he found black beneath the blue, were they boots? He couldn't be sure.

He heard two light taps. He glanced hopelessly to the sky. The sky was suddenly blocked by a pale object, the bottom of it rimmed with something gold and spiky. Yellow orbs loomed over him and something creased in the pale object, looking sad from his view.

"Hey stranger," the voice was smooth, soothing, familiar; it lingered in his ears for as long as he could hold onto it, "I never thought I'd see you again, like this." There was something warm about the aura the voice's owner gave, something that supposed it was human, and male. "Don't give me that look, don't you remember me?"

Roy gasped suddenly, his eyes wide, his chest heaved with inaudible sobs. He knew the name; it lingered naturally on his tongue, "Ch-Chase…?" he breathed it like a dreamer's spell. "I-Is it really…?" From his view, he supposed that Chase must've been grinning.

"Of course it's me." Something solid and warm touched his hand gently; its long fingers fed through his and clasped it tightly. "Can you feel that? It's me." The fuzz around the figure cleared and those big golden eyes smiled back at him. Tears ran down his cheeks and he gulped hard. His bottom lip quivered. "My little Flame," Chase's voice cooed, his hand cupped Roy's cheek, and his thumb stroked along the rim of his lip. "Don't cry." Chase's face grew nearer, and Roy's eyes shut, expecting him to fall unconscious or wake up.

Something locked on his lips, giving heat; the tingle ran from his mouth, electrifying his whole body with a warm and soft sensation. He kneaded into it, hardened the pressure, it was so real, he couldn't let go. Chase's lips released their hold and as soon as he opened his eyes, the sky greeted him. He craned his neck to look around. All he saw were the walls by his side and the stretch of rubble behind. His head began to swim. It must've been an illusion.

Footsteps came clacking towards him, quick and urgent. He looked down himself and found a small figure by the wall and heard a distant clank as something dropped to the floor.

"Roy!" Edward called out to him, and ran into the street. He got down at his side, clasping his hand tightly. "Don't close your eyes, are you alright?" his body shook with worry.

"I-I think so." Roy sounded through clenched teeth.

"We've got to get you out of here. We can't do anything for your wound until we do." Edward nodded, trying to reassure himself. "But before we can do that, you've got to let go of this pain."

"But…how can I? It feels so…real."

"I know," his eyes were edged with heat and tears fell from them, "but you have to believe it isn't there. It isn't real. It doesn't exist; just keep that in mind, ok? Y-You have…to." Those last words lost their strength; they crawled out of his mouth in a shaky whisper.

Roy screwed his eyes up tight, so that his whole mind went black.

_Get rid of the pain, get rid of it…come on, work, free my mind…it doesn't exist…it doesn't EXIST! _

His mind roamed back to that surging warmth, those lips touching his, taking away his worries, sucking away his cares. He fell into the memory, and slowly the pain began to leave with it, seeping away from his mouth until all that was left was that warm feeling in the pit of his gut. It cushioned his wound, hugged the pole and extinguished the agony.

The tension in his face began to relax, as if he'd fallen unconscious, or into a deep sleep. A relieved smile came up on his face and his eyes slowly opened to greet Edward.

"How are you feeling?" Edward asked.

"Better" Roy nodded quickly, "A lot…better." "A lot…better."

Edward did a double-take. His face creased seriously. "Déjà vu." He sounded. "Something's changed in the program."

"I-It has?" Roy looked up at him, puzzled.

_Did he even realise it?_

A drawl ringing filled the air. Edward looked about him, turned behind and found a red phone box standing in front of a building. A wide determined smile flared on his lips and he looked back to Roy. "We can use the phone box to get out; now's our chance."

Roy nodded in agreement.

"Let me help you up." Edward tugged Roy's arm onto his shoulder and waited as Roy brought his feet beneath him. "Are you ok to stand?" He asked and Roy stood up a little shakily at first, but he was stable.

"The pain's gone; I should be fine, thank you." Roy kept a hold of Edward shoulder, clasping his wound with the other hand. Edward grasped his waist and he flinched a little from the cold surface on his bare skin.

They stepped out towards the edge of the street and after a few quick glances, stepped on further. The phone box was in clear sight, still ringing. Roy glanced off to the side.

Clouds of dust surrounded a building as an Agent began to stroll out of it from behind Agent Smith. He clenched his teeth, and let his hand fall from Edward's shoulder. He sought for the edge of Edward's jacket, tucking his arm into it.

Edward glanced up at him, confused almost as the warm arm felt its way through. His fingers stroked down his back, his face began to colour up. The hand left his back, and he decisively ignored it, carrying on slowly to the phone box. The hand suddenly clutched his butt; his whole body shuddered at the sensation. His face grew hot and he looked back up at Roy, his mouth gaping. But Roy's eyes were fixed to the side, away from him, his cheeks beginning to redden.

Roy's fingers travelled up his backside and found the strap of Edward's belt. His fingers closed around it and seized it completely.

A weight he was already used to left his belt and Roy's arm left the folds of his jacket. A gunshot echoed behind him, almost deafening. He looked quickly to his right and an Agent was knocked back. The gun fell from its hands and it fell to the ground, dead.

"Keep moving, Edward." Roy growled lowly, "I'll keep us guarded."

Edward looked up to him, nodded appreciatively and focused his sight back onto the phone box; it was closer than before.

He encouraged Roy to grab the phone booth's handle and he clumsily opened it up. He fell onto the phone, his hand sought for the receiver and he grasped it. Putting it up to his ear, his eyes went wide, his form twisted into a pale, fleshy, snaking blur and down the receiver; he disappeared from sight and the pole that had been fixed in his gut clattered to the floor. Edward breathed a sigh of relief and he put the receiver back on its hook.

-/\*_;)(-

He opened his eyes. A fire spread through his gut. He let out a strangled cry and he grasped his wound madly. The pain had come roaring back.

'Nice work, Mouse! He's out!' Apoc laughed almost giddily and Mouse sighed happily, giving a thumb up.

'This is no time to be relaxing!' Morpheus barked, 'We have to get him into surgery! Now!'

'He's lost a lot of blood.' Switch frowned. 'I'm surprised he's still alive.'

'He's a stubborn one.' A small smile creased onto his face as he unplugged the probe from Roy's head jack. 'It's a good quality to have, means he won't die so easily.' Apoc grinned as he undid the foot holds, supported the back of his knees and his back and lifted him up. His hands remained dry, the blood on his shirt had stained and crusted.

'You lift Roy down to me, and I'll carry him to the recovery room.' Morpheus clambered down the ladder and waited. Carrying Roy to the ladder, Apoc slowly sunk to his knees and replaced his arm from beneath his knees to under Roy's arm. The other arm went to the other one and slowly he let Roy's legs slip over the edge and dangle down to Morpheus.

'Keep me steady Switch!' Apoc called, she rushed to him and grabbed his shirt to stop him falling.

Apoc lowered Roy further and Morpheus made his legs to go at either side of his waist. Apoc's hands were just under Roy's armpits, but not for long as Morpheus held Roy close to him, his head leaning on his shoulder. Roy clutched his wound tight, tears dripped down his cheek, his voice had been paralysed from the pain and he desperately held onto that fuzzy yet recent memory, hoping it would take the pain away.

-/\*_;)(-

Edward sat up with a start, his hands shot back for the probe, trying to tug it out.

'Easy there, Ed.' Apoc pushed his hand on Edward's chest, keeping him down as he pulled the probe out for him. 'Roy's in surgery right now.'

Edward tried frantically to get off the seat, "I-Is he alright? Is he going to live? Let me-."

Apoc grabbed a hold of his shoulders, 'Calm down, I don't know how he'll do, but from what I could tell, most of the bleeding has stopped. I don't know if that's because he lost too _much _blood, but it may be the wound healing itself. You helped him a lot back there, maybe saved his life, but I don't know. We shall see, won't we?' Apoc smiled hopefully.

A small smile lingered on his lips, taking in deep breaths, "Yeah, we'll see." Edward nodded with downcast eyes.

'Go on, Edward.' Switch motioned to the ladder, 'get some rest. You'll need it.'

Edward heaved himself off the seat, and wordlessly stepped down the ladder.

-/\*_;)(-

He shut the door behind him, resting his back against it. His body shook; his eyes were hot with tears. The light flashed above him. He could remember his face being on fire with pain, Roy's crazed eyes as they bore into him. He could see the gun pointed straight at him, Roy's teeth were bared with rage.

_You're pathetic. You make me sick. _

_ You're the reason I'm here! I had everything I could want! You took it all away! I'm nothing here! How could you?_

_ I only…did that…because I owed you._

He sat on his bed, clutching his knees.

_"Me…" _he hissed in Amestrian, _"My fault…it's all…my fault." _

The light continued to flash; its rays taunted him, his face twisted in anger.

_"Damn light!" _he pulled up his left trouser leg, hastily undid the strap and threw his leg at the light bulb. It smashed, sparked and the glass fragments rained down onto the floor along with the leg, which fell with a heavy thud.

He dragged himself up to the headboard with the sheets and hugged his pillow. He lay there in the darkness, his face soaked with tears.

_If only it was that easy to fix._

-/\*_;)(-

Neo rolled onto his side, panting heavily; he glared up at Agent Smith, who loomed over him. The mark on Agent's Smith's cheek was starting to bruise up, clouding a poisonous purple. He narrowed his eyes seriously. Slowly, the glass in his shades started to crack. He took them off, examining them with a disregard for the man at his feet. He threw them away into the rubble of the building behind him. His ice blue eyes penetrated into his very soul, Neo lay there, frozen in place.

He glared up at the wall close by. Trinity was there, restrained in metal coils that kept her connected to the wall. She struggled, trying to get free, but the coils held strong.

'Mr Anderson,' He shook his head, tutting, 'I will ask you once more: hand over Morpheus, but remember, what happens to Trinity will depend on your answer.'

'No!' Neo sounded through clenched teeth, 'I won't-!' Footsteps approached them from the shadows, the strange sound of bare skin slapping against the concrete. The figure's purple irises glared into Neo, a sneer enveloped his lips. A cold shiver ran down Neo's back, a bad feeling; he couldn't rid himself of it.

"Are you _sure _that's your answer?" The low feminine voice cackled smoothly. The shadows fell away from the figure and Neo found a person with long dark-green hair falling in spiked tendrils down his back, kept out of his eyes by a black headband with an upside down triangle formation. His body was clothed in a vest he would've recognised as Roy's and a black skirt, or were they shorts? He wasn't sure. His hands were covered in fingerless gloves and his feet were wrapped in toe-less and heel-less cloth that reached above his ankles, but something caught his eyes, something at the flank of the man's left thigh. A red circular formation consisting of a red serpent biting its tail, a pair of wings and a six point star at its centre. "You forget who you're speaking to!" The figure growled.

'Now, now Envy.' Agent Smith held out a hand to cease further action, 'Mr Anderson here has a choice to make after all, let him make it.'

"Fine," Envy faced Agent Smith, "but once he makes his choice, far be it from me to restrain myself!"

'So, what will it be, Mr Anderson? Will you comply? Or was my partner not persuasive enough? Hm?'

Neo remained serious, failing to belie any sense of a decision made or remotely thought about.

Envy scowled impatiently, cracking his knuckles, he gave him a side long glance, and a smirk crawled onto Agent Smith's lips. And he nodded in response. He stomped forward and grasped Neo by the front of his jacket, "You humans seem to forget your place!" He yanked him up and beat him around the face. Neo grunted with each assault and yelped as he was thrown back into the rubble. "Let's make this easier for your human brain to understand, shall we? If you ever want to see your girlfriend again, you can have her back in exchange for the Baldy! But! If you choose to back out of it, then you'd better say goodbye to her now!" Envy grinned maliciously.

Neo spat blood, using the support of his elbows to keep him steady, 'What will you do to her… if we decide not to make the exchange?' He gritted his teeth, glaring up at him.

Envy let a chuckle escape his throat, "Now why would I spoil all the fun?"

'Envy,' Agent Smith called seriously, 'Let's collect our hostage. Play times over.'

A green-backed door opened suddenly beside them and Envy ran for Trinity's struggling body. He pulled her free of the wall, the coils broke and bended to his will. He threw her over his shoulder and ran for the door, his high-pitched laugh bounced off the air, off the walls, off his ear-drums, off his very soul. It shook him, left him cold, all the warmness was beginning to ebb away, the pain of his wounds started to sting his flesh.

'If you ever want to see Trinity again,' Agent Smith called from the doorway, 'then you will meet us at The Heart O' The City Hotel 3 days from now! There you will make the exchange with us! If you fail to arrive by 5pm, she will die! Are we in agreement?'

'Don't worry about me!' Trinity called after him, 'Morpheus is more important! Don't hand him over!'

'Well, Mr Anderson? Are we in agreement?' He asked again.

His mind began to race, but not fast enough for his mouth, 'Yes!' He called, 'We'll meet then!'

The door shut behind them and disappeared into nothingness. Neo clenched his fists 'til his knuckles turned bone-white. His balled up frustration heated and raged in his chest. He punched the ground, screaming in his anguish, hating that he was forced to make such a pact.

-/\*_;)(-

Neo's eyes flashed open. He'd made it to the phone box. He'd answered the call.

'It's alright, Neo.' Morpheus smiled, resting a hand on his shoulder as he pulled the probe free from its port, 'we're all fine, we all made it out.' But he felt no real sense of accomplishment, just his stomach twisting up sickly.

'Not all of us,' the words escaped through the barrier of clenched teeth, and Morpheus's smile showed constraint and bowed itself out of existence.

'I know,' Morpheus sighed lowly, 'we'll figure something out.'

He couldn't rein down that sick feeling, it boiled hotly in his chest, stewed and raged, waiting on a single stinging word to ignite its bowels. 'You make it sound so easy,' Neo growled, 'they've struck a deal, Morpheus; it's either you… or Trinity.'

Author's note: This chapter is named The Game, a song by Disturbed on their album, The Sickness.

I don't know how you guys took to this chapter, but let me tell you that it took too long to write. Normally they will take a week at the very most, but this one took a couple. It didn't help that it was hard for me, at first, to find a way to start the chapter and I would end up spending two hours on a computer staring at a blank page and the end of chapter 13 looking for tips. It struck me then to start it off with a description of the scenery, before going into Roy's almost pompous need to employ military tactics, almost as if he had a rifle stuck up his ass and the trigger sticking out, so that any commanding officer who was unhappy with him could order him to bend over so that they could blow his brains out from the down up (sound familiar?), and that's just something I came up with on the spot. Did you enjoy the imagery?

It's lucky for you guys though that I got quite into it after a couple of sections, finding opportunities to waylay you with symbolisms, meanings and stuff that you may have skimmed over, but just because I'm trying my hand at being in-depth. And why not? Scott Fitzgerald does it! (Read The Great Gatsby and you'll find his books teaming with themes and symbolisms in every other line at the very least; just one of the books you'll be expected to be subjected to at A level, plus aren't we lucky to have a teacher who loves it just as much as I love Fullmetal? Consider that for a moment and you'll realise that's a lot!) I also found it was the first time I had to use a notebook to choreograph the fighting between the teams and the numerous agents, just to make sure I'd kept them all in check. I should've finished it quicker amidst my excitement, but I got slowed by the situation between Neo, Smith, Envy and the opportunity to call them gay and the fact I had coursework to do (yes, it was very childish of Neo to point it out, but he's immature at the worst of times, plus we hardly get to see Neo with such… exuberance. He's almost as ramrod straight as Roy and his rifle in the movies, so to show him with more flexibility is a task I enjoy whenever the opportunity arises).

Now, you'll have noticed we see more of Chase. Hopefully you'll have seen why Roy mistook Edward for him in Chapter 9 (Ed has spiky hair at this point, not for want of a new style, but because the pod has been holding out on him in the hair department, and besides, who wants sticky stuff in your locks?) At least we know _something _of Edward is growing! Am I right? Huh? I'll quit rambling from here, but I hope you enjoyed the chapter all the same. I'll be glad when chapter 15 gets underway. But please do read and review all the same!

Ophelia Davis

I couldn't resist this here. There's a comic that I read daily (because it's updated that much) called Least I Could Do, which is written by Ryan Sohmer and drawn by Lar Desouza. It is such a funny comic, and looking back on it, I came upon this arc. It's about Rayne discovering that his friend Noel is in the pharmacy buying a pregnancy test for his wife (being that Rayne is an infamous womanizer, you can see how something like this would cause him distress). I know that, at this point, you must think I'm being really obsessive about the Matrix, but while I'm submersed in this crossover, I can't afford to be anything _but! _Besides, a fiction about the Matrix deserves Matrix related things.

Here is the strip in question:  comic/20100326

You can probably tell, but the guy with black hair is Rayne, while the other bottoming out (so to speak) is Noel. There's nothing stopping you reading the storyline from there, or even going to the very beginning and getting into it. The art is very crap at the beginning (black and white!) but that's because the first artist was Trevor Adams. Then it escalated to colour with the same guy. The art then got slightly better (slightly!) with Chad WM Porter, until finally it came into the hands of Lar Desouza and developed on from there into the style we know and love!

It's definitely worth checking out. But even though it'll take you a while to get completely up to speed (it started in 2003, and it's one strip a day!) it is definitely worth it. I will say though, for all its sexual innuendo I'll have to distress an age limit. You'll have to be _at least _13 years old and have enough maturity not to spread it around childishly so that it gets blocked on your computer by your parents. A private laugh though is A OK. Heck, maybe your friends will like it too! I wouldn't blame them.

And that's not the only reference to the Matrix in there; there are a lot dotted around, but that for me is the most prominent.

I could go on, but I won't.

Thanks once again for reading.

/tmp/uploads/FF_1442475_ 17of17 at 07:03:38 on23/06/2012 King Edward VII School


	15. Liberate

"You can discover more about a person in an hour of play than in a year of conversations" - Plato

The cold wind bristled past his face, biting at his cheeks and leaving their mark as red ink-like stains, spreading wider the longer he stood in his black trench coat. With each sombre breeze, its invisible fingers threatened to pluck his hat from his head and he had to tug it further down his brow to keep the wind from winning its prize. His hands became residents to the warm prison of his pockets, they clenched up into fists as a lone voice remedied the silence that such an occasion warranted. His words were grave, sad; heart breaking to know that a Lieutenant General such as he knew how to sniffle tears of any kind apart from in mirth.

They watched together, his friends and him, as the solitary coffin was lowered into the earth and as its lid became weighted by the soil. With each shovelful, the coffin, the body, a life disappeared from sight. Forever, it seemed, so that the Wake could hope to prove that notion to be a lie. At any cost, even if only two attended, they would share memories; no matter how blinkered they were from the coffin owner's past. Gunshots cut through the air, seven guns at once, BANG; again, BANG; and once more, BANG. They had no aim but the sky, no target or goal. The dearly departed, with eyes clear as crystal and unfaltering, would have found their mark. These seven men, surely only picked at random among the many servicemen, would pale in comparison to her skills. He almost felt like spitting in contempt for their presence before their senior, both in ability and rank; they didn't deserve to hold their rifles high and pull those triggers; bastards, the lot of them.

A hand pressed firmly to his shoulder, and he turned to find his best friend there, his small eyes smiling sadly, set in his chubby stubble face. He nodded to him, acknowledging his presence and he turned slowly, hesitantly, to leave his stance as others departed from the newly made grave and grave marker, unburdening themselves with their cargo of bouquets atop the marker until the grey square slab was invisible. Only the pile would remind others that a soul once occupied that beautiful vessel below.

It was her dog's miserable whines that brought him back to his senses and from that void where he had solitarily drifted throughout the service, motionless, with glazed eyes, hardly hearing the Lieutenant General's kind words to her; by their tone they were endearing, not by their content. He could have sworn blind against her and he would have nodded in approval if the tone belied they were sweet, as though he was breaking apart inside. The dog tugged keenly towards the grave, sensing his master below the depths, giving into its loyal need to free her from her earthly coils. It made no sense that they should do something so cruel and demeaning to his sleeping master. No, death was not an option in this.

"Come on, Black Hayate." Fuery tugged at the lead, but his heart wasn't in it. "It's time for the Wake." He wouldn't offer to dig up his master, but he dug up a smile at least, though strained. As before, his heart wasn't in it. Black Hayate peered up at him; he pawed at the ground and whined softly. "She's at peace now, Black Hayate. She's safe now." His bottom lip quivered and tears began to well up in his eyes.

He watched as Fuery tried helplessly to reason with the pup. He sighed deeply, and stepped towards the dog. Taking a hold of the collar, he unclipped the lead and waited for a reaction.

He nudged his wet nose into the palm of his hand, gave it a solemn lick and padded for the grave. He sat before it, nudged keenly at the grave behind the pile of bouquets, and peered at them, whining mournfully.

"You're right." Fuery bent and scratched his head, but the dog hardly paid him any heed, his small black eyes became transfixed with the engraved marks on the grave, as though he were suddenly literate, "you can stay here if you want." Fuery's fingers stroked down the side of the dog's neck before he padded forward, turned and lay down beside the grave, his head weighed heavy between his paws.

The group left Black Hayate and his cold comforter behind, the wind blew up the back of them, forcing them onwards. He could sense its message; _you go on, Black Hayate is safe in my care, thank you for looking after him_. Though the wind whispered it in his ear in a low whistle, he heard her voice crooning in the back of his mind, soft, as though she was purveying her rare but loving reassurance. He hadn't heard this kind of feeling from her before; he was glad to have an imagination.

-/\*_;)(-

He leaned against the bar, his beer glass in his hand. He sighed weakly, brought the glass to his lips and took a slow sip as its contents diminished. He glanced along the people huddled in their groups at round tables; their chatter filled the room with a low hum.

His blue eyes fell onto a woman. Her wrinkled face sagged with her efforts to hold herself together. Her small dark eyes were red, puffy and streaming, causing her make up to leak down her cheeks in black liquid lines. Her black hair, greying in places, fell from the restraints of her tight ponytail, falling from her brow in crazed strands. Her red lips quivered, pulled down at the corners. Her chest heaved beneath her low-cut black dress; with each breath she took and hiccup of grief, there was an audible chink of pearls as they collided lightly with the necklace around her neck, an arrangement of long, thin golden bars. She clutched her fur-lined coat close to her, trying to find comfort from her material possessions, as if they could love.

The Lieutenant General stretched a small arm around her shoulders, smiling apologetically as he rocked her sideways in her chair.

He caught the Lieutenant General's words on the air; it lent comfort to her, just as his normally jovial tone lent security and some strand of hope to the funeral service, "There, there, my dear. He's only missing after all. He'll be back before long." A smile was pressed against his aged face, only just visible beneath his moustache, but he was by no means mocking her for worrying so much.

Her voice was low, cracked, as if it took all her strength to answer, "H-He's out there…s-s-s-somewhere…injured and a-alone…my brother…I've f-failed him." Her face fell into her hands, her elbows held her up with all the stability they could muster.

"Don't say that. You haven't failed him at all. Now, how could you have known what would happen? If you were there, I'm sure you would've done everything you could. Besides, Roy's a big boy now; he can take care of himself." He patted her shoulder hopefully; she brought her head out of its cradle.

"Big boy…" She nodded shakily. Her eyes widened suddenly. "Roy boy… my Roy boy!" her whole form crumpled onto the table top, racked with sobs.

"Havoc, you ok?" He blinked and turned to his side. Breda was leaning against the bar with him, by his side like he had been at the funeral, a drink in hand.

"You were saying something?" He asked.

"I was just saying; I'm getting tired of these funeral services. First Alphonse and now Lieute- I mean, Major Hawkeye. I bet the news will hit them hard when they turn up." He frowned.

"When who turn up?" He asked.

"Edward and Roy, remember?" Breda's frown deepened, "You look really out of it. What's up?"

"Them." He nodded to the woman and the Lieutenant General, and cringed inwardly as she howled Roy's precious nickname. He wondered if somewhere, wherever Roy was, he was shuddering right now.

"Ah, that's the Colonel's foster mother." Breda gave her a sidelong glance and took another sip of his drink.

"Roy's adopted?" Havoc said thoughtfully.

"Well, an orphan would be more precise." He placed his empty glass back on the bar counter. "She's his aunt. His father's sister or something like that anyway." He shrugged.

"Where'd you hear that?" He asked.

"Straight from the horse's mouth, so to speak." Breda smirked, but he let it drop after a brief moment, making an effort not to forget himself or the occasion.

"Huh," Havoc scratched his head and sighed, "He told me once he had a brother. Said he was 14 and lived with his mom."

"The brother's probably dead too." He frowned lowly.

"You think?" He took another sip and placed it on the counter when he realised it was empty.

"I know. I went through his file once while looking something up. If he had a brother, it would be on his record."

Havoc's eyes narrowed, "So Roy didn't actually tell you himself, did he?"

"I'm surprised he told you about the brother. I doubt he would have given me a straight answer even if I _wanted _to ask something like that. Heck, he was probably lying to you in the first place." Breda smirked.

"You think?"

"Sure, you know how secretive he can be, he'll say anything to shut us up. He didn't want you to know about his private matters, so he satisfied your curiosity with something else. It's what he does; he is a Colonel after all." The memory seemed warm in his face, but he went serious again, turning around to face the bar, leaning on his elbows.

"I guess you're right." Havoc sighed audibly. Just as he turned around, he felt a hand on his arm. The Lieutenant General smiled up at him sadly, a glass in his hand.

"It's a shame to see an exuberant woman like her reduced to such shambles." He nodded over towards Roy's foster mother, shaking in her heap on the table, clutching her arms together like they were the only support she had left. "Oh the strength of a mother's love," he sighed, "It is a force to be reckoned with, and yet, it can just as easily crumble when the burden is too great." Havoc and Breda looked at each other, almost dumb-founded and then back at the Lieutenant General. The old man spotted their glares and chuckled softly. "I'm sorry; I don't believe we've met." The Lieutenant General held out his hand to him and Havoc shook it and gave his name and title, as in turn did Breda. "I'm Lieutenant General Grumman. I was Colonel Roy Mustang's commanding officer before he was transferred to Central. From what I hear, you two are his subordinates, as well as Major Riza Hawkeye's." His voice was soft, a shade off from jovial so as to emanate a lighter mood, but sympathetic.

"Yeah," Havoc smiled, "we worked in the same office. They've helped us out of a lot of tight spots in the past." Breda nodded in agreement, the memory was warm.

"You must have taught the Colonel everything he knows." Breda offered, pushing his hands into his pockets.

"Yes," The Lieutenant General chuckled, "that's why I'm not too worried about him. Wherever he is, he'll be fine. But," he sighed lowly, "I would've liked to have gotten to know my granddaughter better." His eyes went to his feet, weighed down with regret.

"You mean Major Hawkeye?" Breda suggested.

"I suppose you two didn't know, but then again, neither did she." His gaze turned back up to them, a smile pricked up at the corners, searching, and "tell me, what wasshe like? I realise you two may not have known her intimately, but you have worked with her a few years at least. What was she like, from what you knew of her?" He asked.

"Well…" Breda began, his eyes searched for something meaningful.

"She was a very organized woman." Havoc began before he knew what he was saying. "She was level-headed and respectful. She always knew how to keep the Colonel in line, even when he tried his best to slack off. She never trespassed needlessly on other people's business, and in turn, she kept to herself. As a consequence, I think she never really opened up to others, but I think she didn't mind that. She had great skills as a sharp-shooter and was worthy of respect." Lieutenant General Grumman stared up at him from behind his round spectacles, and Havoc began to blush, scratching the back of his head nervously and glancing away from it.

"I'm glad you thought of her that way," Grumman smiled, "truly quite a befitting description from her subordinates of a woman such as herself." He took a sip of his glass, and emptying it, placed it on the counter between Havoc and Breda. "Now, I don't know about you two, but I'm in need of a refill. Would you two care to join me for a drink? We'll sit down at that table over there." He pointed off to his right where an empty table was positioned in the corner of the pub. "What do you say?"

"Sure." Havoc smiled, sighing with inaudible relief.

After the drinks were ordered in, they stepped between the fuller tables with their drinks in hand and they sat down at their table. The lieutenant General took a few parched gulps of beer and set it down, leaning over it with a sad smile.

"You are quite right in any case, 2nd Lieutenant Havoc. She really did know how to keep the Colonel in line." He peered up at him from his glass.

"Just Havoc is fine." Havoc grinned, taking a sip of his beer. "But yes, I agree."

"If it weren't for her, we all would've been saddled with his paperwork." Breda laughed, "He would've ordered us to, and we wouldn't have been able to do a thing about it."

"Quite right, hear hear!" He cheered and the three clinked glasses, he sighed, wiping the tears of mirth from his eyes. "But, I'm sure she would've been a wonderful mother, had she been given the chance."

"With how well she brought up Black Hayate, I'm sure she would've." Havoc said.

"Black who?" The Lieutenant General's eyebrows cocked in confusion.

"Black Hayate, her dog." Breda answered.

"Ah yes, the black and white pup." Grumman nodded in remembrance. "Very obedient; poor thing, he must miss his mother."

"I reckon he'll still be in the cemetery." Havoc sighed, remembering how they left the dog in the cold noon by the grave.

"Yes, love is indeed a cruel mistress, it seems." Grumman reasoned, taking another sip, "You take it by the hand, and it has you by the throat." Havoc and Breda nodded in agreement.

"I know that feeling." Havoc chuckled. "If there was ever anything the Colonel was good at, it was stealing my girlfriends."

"Yes, I certainly taught him well, although, he grew up mostly in a bar full of women. There's never a better place to learn skills like that than in a bar, but I'm glad to say his foster mother taught him finer things." He smiled widely.

"A bar…?" Breda frowned.

"Full of women…? Havoc stared at the old man helplessly.

"Why yes, his foster mother, Chris, owns a bar. When she took him in he would help her out, from what Chris has told me, by waiting on them. He learned a lot about what women liked, he was eradicated of any bad habits he might pick up, and he also learned how to respect them." He took a thoughtful sip.

"So then, there's no wonder he could steal men's dates." Havoc sighed.

"Yes, but don't let it get you down." Grumman chuckled, "You know, while he's away, you could make use of this time by stealing his dates. You know? Teach him a thing or two, yes?"

"I suppose I could." Havoc couldn't help but feel a grin creep onto his face.

"But you know, when you break through the surface of what makes Mustang, well, _Mustang, _he wasn't always a womanizer. I'm sure my granddaughter knew that well." He sighed lowly. "She knew him better than that, of course, maybe, even loved him…"

"Loved him, Grumman?" Havoc asked pointedly.

"Ah, I'm sorry, I forgot you didn't know her intimately," He caught himself quickly, chuckling. "But that doesn't matter. All the same, I hope that she rests in peace." His light mood turned dark, and he took a big swig of his beer. "She's with her family now, there should be no greater peace, and I can assure you of that." He offered them a strained grin, "Remember this, no matter their failings, always keep your family close. I'm sad to say I failed to follow by that, and now I am a lonely old man. I would even give up my rank if I could have my family all together again…happy…that, my friends, is my deepest wish." He emptied his glass and set it down finally, pushing it away. "Listen to me prattle on, you must be bored stiff."

"No, of course we're not," Breda tried to smile, "we're enjoying good beer and good conversation; we're not bored, right Havoc?" He elbowed Havoc, looking for support.

"Right, we're finding out things about our subordinates that we didn't know. I would say it's constructive." He grinned.

Grumman smiled to himself, "Well, I'm glad you think so."

Havoc looked up from the table, hearing the sound of intruders from across the pub; their footsteps penetrated the low hum that the pub so treasured for its conversation and the evidence of customers; soldiers in their uniforms, by the look of those stars, high ranking officers.

Havoc and Breda stood up from their seats, saluting to them in respect, they saluted in return. The soldier before them, the one heading the group of three, was a wide built man with a notably crooked nose.

"2nd Lieutenant Jean Havoc, I'm sorry to disturb you at this time, but I have been given orders from the Top Brass to give you this." He held out a brown envelope, and Havoc took it from his hand, Breda stared at it curiously.

"May I?" Havoc asked, and with a quick nod, he began to open the envelope. He pulled out a piece of paper and began to read it. His eyes went wide and he glared up quickly at the officer.

"What is it?" Breda asked quickly, sensing his friend's alarm.

"I'm being promoted…" He spoke.

"Promoted?" Breda asked, "But that's good, isn't it?"

"Two whole ranks..." he uttered, before frowning, "Not about to die, am I?"

"I'm sorry, you misunderstood." The officer smiled, "Now that we've lost three great assets to our military, it's about time you took some responsibility. We need to make up for the loss of man-power, and being that you worked closely with all three, it's about time you put their teachings into practice and pulled your weight." The officer smirked, "You should be happy, you are now Captain Jean Havoc." He saluted, and Havoc saluted back. The officer put a hand in his pocket and pulled out a smaller envelope, "Here, for your uniform." Havoc took them from him, and placed them in his chest pocket.

"Have I any orders?" He frowned.

"Actually, you do, as the highest ranking officer in your jurisdiction, you are to take over as its leader, as such, you shall first clean out Major Riza Hawkeye's desk, as well as Colonel Roy Mustang's."

Havoc's mouth fell open, "Wait a second! The Colonel's desk as well? But he's missing! The military is still searching for him, and he'll be found, right?"

"I'm afraid not, The Fuhrer is going to drop the search for him, as well as Fullmetal. They are traitors to the state. Being that they have not turned up yet, they obviously don't want to be found. They shall be relieved of their military duties." He answered solemnly.

"No! I won't allow it! The military will put up search posters for criminals, but not for their own state alchemists? It's just wrong! You've got your logic backwards! They still need to be found!" Havoc shouted, he seethed as the hum of the pub died into silence, all mournful eyes were pressed firmly on him, and he could feel their orbs burning into him from all sides.

The officer sighed, but smiled, "Given the nature of the circumstances, I will not have you dismissed," Havoc stared at him, he really expected to be fired, "I will even assist you in your search." Havoc gave a sigh of relief, "But, since you tell me that we only put up posters for criminals, then they shall be treated as such. We'll even throw in a reward for whoever should find them. Does that sound fair, Captain Havoc?" He really regretted the name; it had become a burden, represented by the two extra stars that would be pinned to each shoulder, showing his rise in rank. The extra power that came with it, he was sure he would come to regret that too, anything tied to this rank, seemed abominable.

-/\*_;)(-

Tank stepped into the kitchen, collapsing exhausted by Neo's side. Neo paid no attention, his face buried in his hands.

'How's Roy?' Morpheus asked; his arms were folded as he glared across from Neo at Tank.

'He's resting in Recovery; he's stable for now.' Tank sighed; he stretched his arms upwards, grunting. Switch and Apoc glanced sidelong from each other beside Morpheus, they gripped each other's hands, and Apoc offered her a small smile.

'Thank you, that's good to hear.' Morpheus smiled with a sigh of relief. 'Does Edward know?'

'I was going to tell him, but he was asleep, so I didn't bother.' Tank yawned a little.

'That's alright then, let him rest.'

Tank nodded in response and rested his head in his hand. He glanced around the room, his eyes looked sidelong at Neo at his right and then down towards Mouse at Switch's right; the boy fidgeted in his seat, sending worried glances in Neo's direction.

'Neo?' Morpheus's face softened, he unfolded his arms and he leaned over to touch the side of his arm. It brought him out of his stupor, his head out of his hands and his eyes settled on Morpheus. 'You can take your time; just tell me, who struck the deal?' His voice was calm.

His eyes strayed out of his gaze, 'You saw what happened,' he spoke through gritted teeth, 'it's Agent Smith. I'm not sure how, but he was able to get into the Construct. And now…he has Trin…' he screwed his eyes shut.

'Did he give a date or time?' Morpheus asked coolly.

'He just said to meet at this hotel in 3 days.' His hand stroked through his hair. 'The Heart O' the City…or something like that.' He answered, unsure. '5pm, we have to make the exchange by then.'

Morpheus nodded in comprehension and then laced his fingers, 'I think I know why.' He growled deeply. Neo looked up at him curiously. 'They want something that they'll benefit from, something that they know I have, but Trinity does not.' He narrowed his eyes, 'codes to the Zion mainframe. With them, they can find and enter Zion, and humanity will be lost.'

'Then we can't let the Agents have you! We can't make the exchange!' Neo shouted.

'No,' Morpheus spoke calmly, 'if we don't make the exchange, then Trinity will die.' The words stung Neo, he flinched from them. 'Am I right?' Morpheus asked, and Neo nodded solemnly. 'Then we have to make it.'

'Do you _want _to let Zion fall?' Neo sneered, 'does it not matter to you anymore?'

'Of course it matters, but so does your well-being!' Morpheus countered, 'If Trinity dies, we lose motivation and cooperation from you. Once we lose that, the people of Zion are as good as dead. If we make the exchange, then we can ensure her safety, as well as yours.'

'Or we couldn't make the exchange at all.' Mouse suggested, 'if we pull the plug on her now, then they lose what they want, and we still have Morpheus.'

'Are you _insane_?' Neo screamed, standing up from his seat, 'have you not been listening? We can't lose Trinity! I won't let her die!' He breathed heavily, and Mouse tried to shrink away.

'Please, Neo, calm down.' Tank grabbed his arm, squeezing it reassuringly, and after a few moments, Neo sat back down, his eyes concentrated coldly on Mouse's.

'Neo, we will make the exchange, but I won't let them have the codes. Trust me, I have a plan.' He gave him a reassuring smile, 'besides, we've fought the Agents before; we know what we're up against.'

'No, we don't,' Neo looked down at his hands, 'there's something else now. It's nothing like the Agents, and yet, it's just as strong, maybe even stronger.' They tightened up into fists.

'Something else?' Morpheus's eyes began to widen, a cold sweat ran down the back of his neck. 'Do you know what this thing is? Is it a program?'

'It could be; I'm not sure. But I got this bad feeling from it. It was nothing compared to fighting an Agent. It felt like I was up against a monster.'

'Can you describe it?' Morpheus asked.

Neo thought for a moment, trying to think back, 'He…had long hair, spiky. It was green.'

'Are we talking bright green, or something else?' Apoc asked.

'Deep green, like the colour of an Agent's suit green; and he wore this black vest, it looked like Roy's RSI. And then… a pair of shorts, or a skirt, it looked like he was wearing both.

'So we're up against a guy in drag?' Tank looked at him incredulously.

'I don't think he's just a guy in drag. He hit me, he was really strong, but I reckon he could've hit harder if he wanted to. There was a lot of weight behind it.' Neo added.

'Is there anything else; something that would make him distinguishable?' Morpheus asked, settling Tank's mood with a wave of his hand.

Neo thought for a few moments, 'Yeah, on his left thigh, he had this weird tattoo. I don't know how to describe it though.' His face creased up.

'Can you draw it for us?' Morpheus asked.

'I think I can.' Neo nodded.

'Here.' Mouse pulled a piece of paper from out of his pocket and a pencil and passed it to Neo. Neo looked at both sides of the paper.

'Brainiac?' He said, quoting a word from the paper.

'Oh, sorry, that was when Ed and I were coming up with names.' Mouse shrugged, grinning nervously.

'Just draw what you saw.' Morpheus smiled, and Neo put the pencil to paper. He sketched it out as best he could and then passed it back to Morpheus. Morpheus glared at it, his eyes wide.

'Have you seen it before?' Neo asked curiously.

'The tattoo looks similar to the emblem of Theosophy; I've seen it a few times before in the Matrix, but never as a tattoo. But if this thing is indeed a program, then he is not a Matrix native, I'm sure of it.'

'Then you think Edward might know something?' Tank asked.

'There is a chance he does. Did the program have a name?' Morpheus asked.

'I can remember Agent Smith calling him Envy.' Neo nodded, and a shiver ran down his spine.

'If he knows his name, then they may be working together.'

'They are; he kept referring to him as his partner.' Neo frowned.

Morpheus sighed deeply, he took a hold of Neo's hands, and squeezed them, 'It's ok, when it's time-.' But Neo pulled his hands away.

'No, it's not ok!' Neo seethed, 'they're not just going to wait for us! They'll…they'll do _god _knows what to her…all because I let her down! It's my fault she got caught! And now…they've got us cornered…if we don't do anything she's dead, and if we hand you over, we're as good as fucked anyway!'

'We're going to do something, Neo. I won't let her die, but we'll need everyone's cooperation.' Morpheus assured, 'we're not just going to wait either, we're going to have a plan, and it'll work.'

Neo looked away, he screwed his eyes shut and frustrated tears poured down his cheeks. Inaudible sobs shook his body, and he sprung suddenly to his feet and he strode for the door.

'Neo, don't do anything rash! Where are you-?' Tank tried to catch him, but Neo moved his arm out of his grip.

'I'm fucking sick of this! That bastard!' He roared and he ran down the corridor.

-/\*_;)(-

His vision remained clouded; black smoke fogged it. He wanted to waft it away, to struggle free, but his body remained heavy and numb. The shroud began to part; a window, cold with frosted edges, came into view as well as everything behind it. A wind pushed at his back, the smoke helped him to linger at its surface. He peered into its chamber and beheld the visions that played out like a corny theatre.

He held his arms open with apprehension and the bundle was placed into them. They left and it was just him, and her, exhausted in her bed. The bundle wailed, it screamed with high and mighty energy; strong for being minutes old. He didn't know what to do. His own ignorance shocked him. This thing was an alien. But she didn't think so. Her smile beamed into him, made his very soul want to alight from its flesh prison and float to the rafters; want to swim through the air and shout itself as hoarse as a soul could get for all its joy. It was planning its escape. It would pour its way out. It rose to his eyes and began to leak down his cheeks. With a reassuring glance from her, he peeked down at the calming bundle; its cries faltered when it caught a glimpse of its maker. Its own joy was incomparable, it gurgled happily. His face softened; all the worries of before dissipated.

He heard his own voice crack, _"He…He's beautiful…" _He didn't think he'd ever hear that word fall on his lips. He imagined the word handsome, but _beautiful? _Yes, maybe it was appropriate.

_"…just like his father." _He gasped up at her, her smile never waned. The bundle continued to giggle; its maker's surprise was endless amusement. Its coffee-coloured orbs gleamed up at him, just as hers did, _no, not quite like his father. _

The room gave in to a bright whiteness, like the slate being wiped clean and the owner of the bed was replaced by him. Their positions had switched and her coffee orbs stared down at him with concern in her face. Her eyes were red and puffy. The pain had left him paralysed and bed-ridden. He could only clutch his wound in silent frustration.

_"…I won't let this stop me." _He uttered stubbornly.

She looked at him, stunned.

_"My mind's made up. I may have lost so much already, but that doesn't mean I'm going to let this cripple me. I'll stand up, and keep on moving while I still have my legs. I'm going to prove to you, to everyone that I can come back from this a better man then before."_

_"You idiot, you're still weak; you need to give yourself time to recover. It'll be a while before you're back on your feet." _She admonished him lightly.

_"No, this won't keep me here for long; this is just a minor inconvenience."_

A sandstorm interspersed the ward, and its veil began to lift and settle onto desert sands, he stood taller, stronger, head to toe in uniform and a battle-torn sandy cloak. Before him another stood; they were equals of the cloth, but not so by rank and not so by a long shot. Though his face was peppered with dirt, beneath it was a spiky mess of blond hair and golden eyes that burned with a relentless passion. They were orbs that he also adored.

_"Come on, don't give me that look." _The man smirked at him, but then looked at him oddly when he didn't return his humour.

_"Chase, there's something I need to tell you." _He averted his eyes; those eyes were too sacred to gaze upon.

Chase frowned at him.

"_There's something I want you to know about me."_

A smile played on Chase's lips.

_"Sure, Stranger, I'll listen." _It was the warmest tone he'd heard from him.

The black smoke cloaked the frosted window and it began to push him back. It collected at his arms and dragged him away.

Light gathered at the crack in his eyelids, he opened them further and, as the light flooded in, he squinted quickly. He opened them, slower this time, and he recognized the glare of the hot lamp. He glanced to his side and a machine beeped monotonously. Green waves flickered up and down with each blip.

With each flickering wave, the numbness began to recede, and with it the pain began to course through him, throbbing at his gut and at his back. He clutched his wound and gritted his teeth against it. He tried to sit up, but he couldn't; it felt as though rocks kept him down, piled up in his head, sickeningly restrained. The numbness receded even further and the table surface began to bite into his back. He weakly rolled onto his side to escape the pressure, but clutched his wound as the gravity tugged at his wound.

Sweat collected at his brow, his eyes screwed up shut and he gritted his teeth in agony.

The bundle cradled in his arms, the searing emptiness in the pit of his gut; Chase listening with silent warmth, the memories were his comforters, and his demons.

Voices began to echo down the corridor outside the room. The dull thud of shoes on the floor grew louder. The door swung open and the footsteps were upon him. He could see the figure charging forward, his eyes burning with malice. He pushed the beeping machine; there was a sharp stinging tug in his arm and the machine began to flat-line. He jumped onto him, straddling his hips. He tried to lift his head away from the table top, but the figure grabbed hold of his shoulders and pushed him down. His back slapped against the surface. The pain shocked through him.

'Don't you _dare _struggle, you bastard!' He growled in his face, it was so oppressively close to his own. 'TELL ME! TELL ME YOU SEE IT! FOR GOD'S SAKE TELL ME YOU SEE IT!' his face crushed up with rage, and Roy stared up at him, still dazed from the pain.

_"W-What?" _He uttered in Amestrian, his vision was still blurry from the black smoke in his mind.

He pulled up on his shoulders and shoved them back down. Roy grunted from the pain. More footsteps came into the room and stopped short of entering it.

'DON'T PLAY DUMB WITH ME!' Neo screamed, he clenched his teeth, his face closed in, so close that Roy could feel Neo's hot breath against his skin. His eyes narrowed darkly. He could see them shine damply. 'You can see it, can't you? What he feels for you! Tell me you've seen it!' His voice growled lowly.

Roy's eyes widened with realization before narrowing to serve his smirk, _"So that's what this is about." _He seemed to chuckle, _"You think that's what I should be seeing? You sound so convincing…but that's not what it really is, is it?" _

Neo's face creased with confusion, 'what do you mean?'

_"You think I don't know?" _he simpered, _"You said that compared to Edward I'm worth nothing, and when you pushed him out of the way of that bullet, I saw him kiss you, right on the cheek." _Neo's wild stare served as his confirmation, and his perception felt rewarded, _"Honestly? All I can see is you and Edward…and do you know what's worse? That you're doing all this behind Trinity's back; you make me-." _A resounding slap echoed off of Roy's face. Footsteps strode forward and a figure seized Neo, attempting to drag him off.

'Get off him, Neo!' Morpheus shouted, putting all of his strength into prizing him away from Roy. 'You can't take it out on him just because Trinity was taken hostage! He's still recovering from surgery!' Neo came loose from the table and as he was dragged to the floor he still struggled against Morpheus's grip.

'Those were the words you said to Ed, right? When you called him pathetic!' He tried to battle forward. 'You bastard! You think there's something going on between me and Edward? You're sick! When Edward got out of the Beta-Matrix, he didn't have anyone! He would put up a front, but I could tell he was lonely! That's why he needed someone from his own Matrix! A familiar face that could speak his language! That's why he risked everything to get you out, and to do that he needed you to wonder about the Matrix, just like he did!

'But, he wasn't counting on the Agents getting involved or the sacrifices either! He couldn't have known because he knows just as much about the Matrix as you do! And yet, you go on about it like it's his fault! And maybe it was because he was unaware of the consequences, but had he known, he wouldn't have done things the way he did! I'm sure you know Ed more than I do, so I'm sure you can tell me he wouldn't put peoples' lives in danger on purpose! But you go on about it like he would! You're so fucking obsessed with it you make _me _sick! With how moral you act, never mind being a Colonel, you must have been a _pussy _on the battlefield! For fuck's sake, let it _go! _You don't know any of the poor bastards that died, so be thankful it wasn't you and get on with your life!' Tears began to leak down his eyes and he could feel his strength beginning to dissipate. His legs shook until his knees buckled under him. Morpheus loosened his hold and Tank came to stand by him. 'Geez…I can't believe I'm saying this…but you're the lucky one, Roy.' His bottom lip quivered as he said it, and his chest heaved in a sporadic rhythm, as if trying to hold back the sobs.

Through his peripheral vision, he stared widely at Neo; disbelieving.

'In this world, when someone loves and fawns over you like that…you can't let the opportunity pass you by…you have to grab a hold of it…grab it tight, and never let it go for all you're worth. Because, especially in this business, you never know when something or someone will come along and take it from you. It could all be gone…so quickly. You have to savour it while you can…or, you'll lose…' the sobs racked through his body and he shook as he buried his hands in his face. Tank tried to give him reassurance, squeezing his shoulder as Mouse, Apoc and Switch stood at the doorway, unsure with what to do with themselves; they shifted uncomfortably on their feet.

'It's alright, Neo. Come on.' Morpheus uttered in his ear as he tried to get Neo shakily to his feet.

'Oh god…Trin…my pre-e-cious…' he blubbered and gripped onto Morpheus, clutching him tightly for support.

'Tank, take Neo to his room. I'll check on Roy while you do.' Morpheus carefully prized Neo off and Tank moved in to support him. He gave the audience at the door a look, one that told them to move on, and they complied sullenly, shutting the door as Neo and Tank passed through it.

He sighed briefly and stepped over to Roy slowly; rearranging the machine that Neo had pushed askew when he had charged in. He pressed something back into his arm and the machine began to regain its monotonous beeping, though its pace had quickened.

'_How are you feeling?' _Morpheus asked, composing a smile. _'Do your wounds feel sore?' _

Roy nodded hastily, blinking away the wetness collecting at his eyes.

Morpheus pulled up a metal stand by the table and, looking through a nearby cupboard, brought out a bag full of clear liquid. He carefully slotted it onto the stand and collected up the end of the plastic tubing that hung from the bag. On that end was a metal jack, and Roy eyed it nervously. Morpheus caught his gaze and smiled, _'It's for your arm.'_

Roy's head swivelled to the side and he watched as Morpheus turned the other arm flat and applied pressure to both sides of the port. Slowly, he pressed the jack into the port and Roy gritted his teeth as he felt it enter beneath his flesh. A feeling of dampness grew from the port, up his arm and into his chest, down his torso until his whole body could feel it. As the dampness collected at his gut wound, he could feel the numbness return and the ache disappear. As the relief washed over him, his eyes remained fixed to the ceiling, now half-mast in relaxation.

'_How's does it feel now?' _Morpheus voice seemed to reach him from a distance.

'_So…much better.' _Roy smiled dreamily.

'_I've put you on some morphine to help with the pain, but it shouldn't be for__ too long. Your wound had already closed when we got you into surgery, but we had to check in case there was some internal damage. But, you were very lucky. Had things been any different, you might not have survived.' _Roy glanced at Morpheus, his eyebrows knitted together and he considered the words carefully for a moment. Morpheus sighed, and smiled as he took the stool from the other side of the room and set it up by Roy. He sat down and, as the drug continued to work its wonders, the machine began to slow its pace; it relaxed its stressful tone. _'You know,' _Morpheus began before the silence could linger any longer, _'when a man bears out his soul for the woman he loves like that, you would do well to heed it, because he will always be telling the truth.' _

Roy turned his head away from him as if it were a heavy duty.

'_I know __there are times when I don't completely agree with what Neo says, but this time, I agree with him whole-heartedly. You have to let go of this obsession with the dead, Roy. It's not healthy, and it won't do you any good to dwell on them in the long run. In my time, I have seen how good men have been led to physical and mental self-destruction because their loved ones have been killed by the machines, and it's not a pretty sight. But you are heading down this path over people you don't even know. Please, heed what I say, and abandon it. It's not too late.' _Morpheus's composure held steady, and Roy's face creased into a scowl.

"_But…they were human lives…and they were killed for me…I'm not worth that much…"_

'_No, I don't think that's it.' _Morpheus frowned, _'there's a deeper reason; you don't want to let go of this obsession because it's the only thing that's connecting you to the Beta-Matrix. You were taken out of your Matrix and forced into this world so suddenly that you're finding it hard to let go of what you once were.' _

Roy glared up at him, taking in his words.

'_You're trying to hold onto that connection because you don't want to feel like your life didn't affect anyone or anything in the Beta-Matrix or the fact that it was a meaningless illusion to begin with.' _

His heart seemed to stop, he gasped as the words seized a hold of it, squeezing and constricting that life-giving muscle. He turned away from Morpheus as sweat clung to his brow.

Morpheus stood up from his seat, _'apologize to Edward and let go of it. Once you do, I promise you that you will feel a lot better for it. Well, providing Edward forgives you. You have shown him a lot of hatred, but, maybe you'll get lucky. Let's hope he's the forgiving type.' _He strode from Roy's side and, in his numb morphine-induced haze, he heard the door shut.

Roy screwed his eyes up, and whimpered into the empty room as tears ran down his cheeks, over the bridge of his nose and onto the table. With each bead that came free from his eyes, he could feel his heart shouting for the high heavens where the innocents lived, for each lost life to grant him some sort of forgiveness with beseeching cries.

-/\*_;)(-

As he walked into the dark room, he was aware of something crackling beneath his feet and the light from outside glinted onto them as he picked them carefully out of the soul of his shoe. Glass. His fingers moved to the switch, and he flipped it. The bulb sparked, but the room remained dark. By his feet then, he recognized a thick object cased in plastic. He picked it up and brought it out into the light of the corridor. A leg. Putting it under his arm, he stepped over the glass fragments and stepped over to the bed. He sat down on the edge and heard the rustle of sheets as the body began to stir.

'Edward?' he smiled as the form began to sit up, 'You left your leg at the door.' He placed the limb on his lap. The light showed a face looking up blurrily in confusion.

"Huh?" He looked down at the leg in Morpheus's lap, then towards the door and at the glass fragments. "Oh, right" Edward nodded comprehensively as he took the leg for his own. "I managed to fix the light bulb." He grinned sadly.

'I noticed.' Morpheus chuckled lowly and watched as Edward rolled his trouser leg up his thigh and slotted the prosthetic onto his stump. He wrapped the straps around his thigh and buckled them tightly, but comfortably. He rolled the trouser leg back down and patted his leg. He stretched it out in front of him, moving it up and down, bending and then straightening it as if he were doing warm-ups.

"How's Roy?" Came his question, and Morpheus smiled to himself.

'He's a lot better now. His wound's healing nicely and he was very lucky to escape organ damage.'

"Really?" Edward asked, astonished. "The pole didn't skewer his stomach?"

'The pole pierced through muscle instead. It was a narrow escape, but there was no damage that Tank or I could see.'

Edward breathed an audible sigh of relief, "I'm so glad he's ok." He almost laughed giddily.

'Thanks to your advice in the Construct, he should be back on his feet in a week.'

"How's everyone else?" Edward grinned.

Morpheus sighed and he could see Edward's elation begin to settle, 'Trinity didn't make it out.' Edward's mouth fell open in disbelief, his eyebrows knitted up.

"What? But, she must have, she's stronger than that." His voice seemed to deflate; he was finding himself at a loss to believe it.

'It seems that they were stronger. She's been taken hostage, Edward, she's been taken by Agent Smith, but he's not the only one to blame. He's got a new partner, calls himself Envy. Does it sound familiar to you?' Morpheus asked, and Edward tried to think for a moment.

"No, it doesn't." He replied finally. "Why?"

'We've come to the conclusion that he may be from your Matrix.' He answered seriously. He sighed, his face softened quickly, 'but that doesn't matter for now. Get some rest. I'll let you take Roy some food in a while if you like.'

"Ok." The thought of rest made Edward yawn, and he sat back against the headboard of his bed. Morpheus stood up and strode for the door, making sure to step over the fragments.

'Make sure you clean up this glass.' Morpheus smiled and he shut the door behind him.

-/\*_;)(-

Bright orange flames breached the black city line as they stepped out from the pub. Purple smoke gathered above the embers and grew darker until it was a chalky black as they rose further into the sky. The source of the fire, the golden white core of it, was just visible over the hill of the cemetery. It made its slow descent down behind it, as if the ground had opened up, ready for the dead to receive and extinguish its light.

Havoc glared up at that glowing ball from an angle, considering its fate with bags under his eyes. The golden sun, going to die and rest in peace in a cemetery, only to rise in the morning. Death and rebirth; a miraculous cycle, if only it were true. He peered into the grounds and, up on top of the hill, he saw a black mass by a grave, curled up into a ball. He squint his eyes; as far as he could tell, the mass wasn't moving, but he was too far away to know that for sure. He breathed an exhausted sigh and strode quickly, the large white building that marked the cities – no, the _country's _centre just lay before him in the distance, a large oversized glacier in amidst the cold, cold sea named too preciously 'Amestris'. He couldn't help but think that if something were to crash into it, the whole damn continent would sink.

Breda followed quickly after him, trying to keep up. He came up by his side and caught the deep frown carved into Havoc's face.

"You know, it's not every day an officer gets a promotion. We're lucky to just climb one rank, never mind two." He smirked, hoping to lighten his mood. "You should be happy."

Havoc sighed deeply; he kept his gaze averted from Breda's, "How can I, Breda? You and I both know I didn't _deserve _this promotion. I'm just a stand-in for the greater men after all."

He glanced about him and watched as a soldier walked by the wall of a building, a few rolls of paper under one arm and in the other, a white tub and brush. That was when he noticed the white rectangles on the wall that the soldier had passed. It froze him in his tracks, and Breda stopped behind him. It amazed him how quickly they got them printed for showing.

Side by side, two different posters, and two different faces; were staring into him as if with glares of admonishment. Large golden eyes, child-like and yet full of fire, portraying his angered betrayal and narrow dark eyes, peering at him sternly as if through disgusted slits. He turned his face away, sweat clung at his brow and he turned to walk away. It wasn't right, that their heads should be worth 1 million yen a piece. Those bastards; they were worth much more, couldn't they see that? "Come on, Havoc." Breda patted him on the shoulder, "Let's get on home."

"No." Havoc answered, his voice sharp and serious, "We're going to the office. I'd rather get those desks cleaned out now than leave it 'til later." He picked up his pace and strode towards the centre of the ocean with purpose.

-/\*_;)(-

The office door swung open slowly and he sighed to find the room filled with those bright orange flames, the walls were still a charcoal black, and the desk was untouched. He was surprised that the desk still stood. The flames flooded in through the large window just behind the Colonel's desk; he almost expected a king to be seated there when he came in, the smaller man soaking up the sun's brilliance in that concealed effort to make his pride swell to a gigantic size. At least he could say that that wasn't all the man knew how to do.

"I guess the Colonel took care of the clearing out before he left." Breda offered in reply to the room's state. Havoc frowned at his remark and stepped in. He hadn't been in the office for a while now because of the fire damage that the office had suffered, but it seemed appropriate for a place where its inhabitants were fragmenting at the seams. Great officers lost, greatness failing them, and waning cooperation would soon follow suit with grudging obedience fit for the psyche of a soldier.

He tested the seat; it seemed strong enough, it had somehow been protected by the desk against the flames. He made a cautious motion to test its stability and let out a surprised note when the seat held his weight. He thought about leaning back and putting his feet up on the desk, like the Colonel used to when the Lieutenant was out on the room or on an errand. He would smirk and look out onto his pride as they worked themselves rigid to catch up on _his _paperwork. His solid command would defy the questions that would linger on their breaths, but not audibly in the Colonel's ear. It was a principle that all men of the military knew well; obey all orders given to you by superior officers without question, well, if you want to avoid getting court-martialed. It was a weapon that he knew how to wield, and one he could use with aim and skill that paralleled Major Hawkeye's gunmanship. He was a hard man to replace, and to try and imitate it would immediately be like being thrown onto the frontline, to receive a baptism of fire with a weapon you have never used before as your only choice of defence. The very thought made his back run cold with sweat and those narrow eyes glare back at him from the Wanted poster and he decided against it.

"You know, I doubt there's anything in that desk anymore; probably burned up with the Colonel." Breda stood by the desk in a bored posture; he shoved his hands deep into his pockets.

Havoc glared at him wordlessly, before returning his gaze to the desk draw. The metal handle seemed intact, and he curled his hand around the cool surface. He pulled carefully, afraid that the handle might snap, or that the desk might collapse from its frame so that the Colonel's possessions would crumble into oblivion along with it.

The draw came free of its frame shakily at first, but eased its way in a smooth and slow motion. There before him were the Colonel's files, papers, objects of interest and pens still miraculously whole and without fire damage. It was a wonder how they survived a reported torrent of flame from the Colonel's hand, and he remembered his noted precision when it came to the art of immolation. Suddenly, all the things that, not just the title, but the very man, Roy Mustang, would have protected ardently were laid out; prone and in his grasps.

"Well?" Breda asked pointedly, an eyebrow rose.

"Nothing's been damaged." Havoc let out, almost breathily.

"Are you serious?" he stepped up behind him; he eyed the belongings with a sense of astonishment on his face. "Are you going to look through them?" he asked excitedly, a grin now plastered on his face.

"They're not mine to look through." Havoc replied, "But there is something I want to find while I'm in here." He drew the draw out of its frame slowly until it came out heavily into his lap. He rested it carefully on the desk before him and started to move carefully through the pile of papers, bringing them out and placing them by the draw. He paused when his eyes alighted onto a small object in the juncture between the files and the wooden side. He fingered between and brought it out into the open.

It was an oval shape and smooth in texture, like polished wood. He rotated it in his fingers and awed silently at the painting skills of the craftsman, who had painted a red and white spiral pattern leading from the metal point to the flat, broader side of it in thin, particular lines. The spirals faded into the green paint, which looked to have moulded up from the flat side, as if it had been hung up to dry, into a small handle. It was a spinning top by appearance, and it would take a smooth surface and a flick of his fingers to prove it by definition and worth.

"What do you think he was doing with a child's toy in his draw?" Breda asked, his face told plainly that he wondered whether the Colonel's maturity told a different story to his rank.

"Sentimental value?" Havoc suggested, he placed the metal point to the surface and spun the top. It whizzed smoothly across the desk until its metal point, its driver, settled into an indent in the wood, though it continued to spin fervently. The spiral pattern turned into a creamy blur, as if trying to hypnotise all witnesses with its varied colours, and the display would certainly be mesmerising if you were the right age. Its speed began to falter in its groove and it made wide circles with its handle, growing wider as it slowed in speed. Finally, the top gave up its occupation and the point slid out of its groove as it fell onto its side, rolling away and coming to a stop with a bonk against the draw.

Havoc picked it up and, with one last glance, placed it carefully in his chest pocket.

"You're going to keep it?" Breda asked.

"It'll get lost if we put this stuff in a box." He reasoned. He gave a little yawn and picked through more sheets, mostly filled with childish doodles. A smirk grew on his face when he came across a sheet full of caricatures, or rather, silly drawings of his subordinates. He spotted a four panel at one side where a cartoon Colonel stared at a lanky twig version of himself, labelled helpfully with "2nd Lt. Havoc". He was so tall that his stick form came up to the top of the panel and bent over against the panel's border. The Colonel reached up on his tip toes to eye at the spiked front of hair he always had. The Colonel then reached up and tugged at the tuft while, his lanky self, flapped his arms madly. The Colonel then fell to the floor with the tuft of hair grasped tightly in his hands and a carrot hanging from it; a triumphantly mad grin on his face, a sort of illustrated 'I knew it!' grin. It brought a smile to his face and he put on top of the pile by the draw.

He fingered further through the sheets, until he finally found it, at the very bottom where he should've known it would've been kept. He plucked it out and surveyed it with a long glance. The figures were still smiling, her head was still on his shoulder, and the bundle still slept as if no natural disaster could call him from his slumber.

"I found what I was looking for." He held out the photo for Breda to take. Breda scanned its surface curiously.

"How did you know it was here?" He asked off-handed, still staring at the photo.

"I saw the Colonel looking at it once." Havoc smiled as he sat up from his seat and pushed it under the table. "That was when he told me about his little brother."

"Are you sure that's his little brother?" Breda pointed at the little bundle.

"He told me himself." Havoc nodded.

Breda studied the photo further, "No, I still think he was lying." And he handed the photo back.

"What makes you think so?" Havoc glanced back at the photo himself, scanning it for the clue that Breda had found, pondering whether it was enough to fuel that statement.

"It's the kid." He suggested, "It looks too much like him to be his brother."

Havoc took in the suspicion and stared harder at the bundle, and then back at the smiling teenager; his eyes whizzed from one to the other, trying to find a likeness between the two comparisons. He sighed finally, dropped the photo on the pile and collapsed himself back into the chair.

"I'm tired of this; I don't even know why I wanted to look at it again in the first place." He groaned, stretched his arms up and yawned. He propped his elbows up on the surface and frowned, proceeding to wipe a tired tear from his eyes.

"Well, sorry Havoc, but I don't know either." Breda smirked.

Havoc sighed finally; his face drooped in a state of melancholy, "I'm sorry for dragging you up here. I should've let you go home. This is _my _order that I've got to carry out, not yours."

Breda looked at him oddly, before finally settling for a warmer smile, "if I wanted to go home, I would've just left you. Besides, you looked like you needed the help; you've been down all week."

Havoc smirked, "yeah, I guess I have, but the wanted posters haven't exactly helped either." His face fell back into a frown as soon as the memory of the posters came back.

"But that was only because of your helpful suggestion." Breda snorted.

He knew he was right. It was his big mouth, and his own fault that the posters are now pasted upon every wall in Central, and further afield if the Fuhrer so commanded. Something had to be done.

"Then I'll have to find them before someone else does." Havoc decided resolutely. "He said that he would _assist _me in my search, so I'd better get searching."

"Havoc, you mean _we'd _better get searching." Breda grinned, and Havoc glanced up at him to see his friend beam. He returned the smile warmly.

"Thanks."

"What kind of subordinate would I be if I didn't help in searching for my commanding officer? And I can't let the chief down either, now can I." Breda remarked bravely.

"Not after all he's done for us on missions." Havoc chuckled, he surveyed the pile of documents on the desk and sighed, and "Do you think we could a get box for these things?" he asked.

"They'll be one in the office next door; I'll go and get one." Breda offered.

"Thanks." Havoc nodded and Breda made to leave. Havoc watched as his friend shut the door, and then the quick flash of blue as he watched him stroll to the office through the black-edged hole, which had been left in the wall just before the Colonel went missing.

He fingered through the pile of sheets once again and found out the piece of paper that held the four-panel of the carrot in his head. He gave a little chuckle as he read it again and his eyes went to the other doodles on the paper. There was one that he could tell was Breda. The impression had a very small head compared to the ball-shaped torso, dinky arms with a hamburger gripped tightly in one hand and resting on the sides of his blubber, looking too small to reach his mouth. The only thing that kept the, newly defined, large man from toppling over was his tiny feet that poked out from the bottom and kept him level.

He noticed some grey lines on the paper, but not ones that had been indented on the page. They looked as if they were reflecting through. He turned the page over, and found a sketch that overtook the page. The bangs and the antenna were a big give away, as well as the jacket and the shaded pants and boots. The impression was looking to the side of him in shifty eyes with a book titled DIARY poised in front of him, concealing most of his body and a pencil poised in his circular hand. A blush was etched onto his face by the pencil marks of a few tiny lines on his cheeks. Flowers seemed to hover above his head, and his bangs were clipped back by heart shaped slides.

His eyes widened with a sudden thought, and it was then that Breda returned to the office. Havoc stroked his chin, and Breda looked at him oddly as he placed the box on the desk and began to drop the files into it.

"What's up with you?" Breda frowned.

"Edward doesn't have a desk here, does he?" he asked suddenly, and Breda was nearly taken aback by the question.

"I don't think so," Breda replied, thinking for a moment, "He's not a fully commissioned soldier. I think he's only a Major because of him being a state alchemist." He supplied. Havoc thoughts for a few moments more.

"What happened to Edward's stuff after he went missing?" Havoc asked quickly.

"Well, no one else has it as far as I know."

"So it may be in his old hotel room, right?" Havoc asked.

"What are you getting at?" Breda asked curiously.

"Roy went missing not long after Edward did." Havoc began.

"That could be a coincidence." Breda snorted.

"I don't think so." Havoc frowned, "But knowing Roy, maybe he went on a search for Edward? You know, after the attack."

"I doubt that would be on his mind," Breda interjected, "he would be thinking about going to the hospital first."

"But what about _after _the hospital? He might think it's too dangerous to go back to HQ and decide to look for Ed then, right?"

"Where is this coming from?" Breda asked, sensing the seriousness of Havoc's tone.

"Look at this." Havoc passed him the doodled paper and watched as his eyes scanned over the drawing of Edward. "The drawings on the other side are based on observation; so that one must be as well." Breda studied it for a few moments.

"So you're saying that Edward writes a diary." Breda looked back up at him, his face creased seriously.

"Edward must have gone missing for a reason, but I don't think it's anything to do with a kidnapping."

"Right, Edward's too strong for that." Breda looked back to the page, "so you think he planned on leaving?"

"It's only a hunch, but if that's the case, then he must have written it down in a diary." A determined smile etched itself onto Havoc's lips, "So, once we find Edward's things, we should find his diary, and at least we'll be closer to finding them."

"It sounds odd that he would take off without his suitcase though." Breda frowned.

"We'll know once we look in-, hang on, a suitcase? Edward stayed in hotels, didn't he?" his mind was tugging at more trails, more suggestions, he felt smarter than ever before.

"Yeah, and the State usually keeps an invoice of his accommodation bill every time he stays in one."

"So it should also include the name of the hotel, the address and the phone number." Havoc grinned wryly.

"So, as long as his stuff hasn't been moved from the room after he went missing…" the side of his fist collided with his palm. "Edward didn't come in with a suitcase that day, did he?"

"Not that I know of…." Havoc replied.

"Assuming they locked the door, then either one of them had the key, which means the room must still be locked!" Breda grinned excitedly.

"Then the diary will be there!" Havoc laughed, sighed and then wiped away a tear of mirth.

"Now that I think about it, this lead is coming from one of Roy's childish doodles, you know that right?" the excitement started to fade.

"I do, but it's the only lead we have to go on." Havoc smiled, "and despite him being a liar, I have a feeling we should trust his judgement here."

"If you say so." Breda rolled his eyes and smirked.

"Right, you stay here and clean out the Lieutenant's draw," he stood up and pushed the chair back under, "I'm going to go and make use of this promotion." He grinned with a new determination and strode for the exit. His spirits felt lifted, he had a new goal, a new aim in life and hopefully a way to prove that the new promotion wasn't such a burden after all.

-/\*_;)(-

He rested the suitcase on the desk, wiping his arm across his brow. Breda put the last of Major Hawkeye's files into a box and put it down on the floor next to the Colonel's.

"You sure got that quick. How'd you manage it?" Breda asked.

"Finding the hotel was easy enough, but it was hard trying to persuade them to give me access to the room." He began to unclip the latched on the suitcase. "But, once I told them I was a captain and the Fullmetal Alchemist's subordinate, they let me in easy enough. Apparently, an old woman and a teen were trying to get access as well, but they refused them because they didn't have the authority to do so or something like that. Anyway, they were certainly willing after I promised I would pay them extra for Edward's overdue stay."

"You certainly have a way with words." Breda laughed.

Havoc shifted through the contents, a folded pair of leather pants, and some shorts beneath them, a map, some extra gloves, and finally two books hidden beneath the rest. A journal and book marked with the years '1914-1915' on the front.

"I didn't expect two books." Havoc frowned.

"It'll be this one." Breda held up the book with the years printed on its cover. "Diaries are sometimes made with only the years on the cover. The other one's plain, so that must be his Alchemy research notes."

"A simple 'it's this one' would've done." Havoc sighed.

"You would've asked for a reason anyway." Breda chuckled. He picked up the blank covered book and flicked through it. "It's written like a travelogue, so this one must be the research notes. All alchemists code their work, so for it to be written in terms other than being scientific is a dead giveaway."

"Says you." Havoc frowned, and he picked up the diary and started flicking through the pages.

"And who just came up with our lead from a load of doodles? I have to admit you have your moments, but you really can be dense sometimes." Breda grinned.

"Yeah, yeah," Havoc uttered absent-mindedly. He narrowed his eyes in concentration, but then frustration began to rise in his face. "This doesn't make sense!"

"What?" Breda asked surprised.

"It's just… this isn't a day-to-day diary, this is a science book!"

"Let me see that." Breda sighed wearily and snatched the book out of his hand. He grinned wryly as an idea came to him. "Edward's actually smarter than he looks."

"How do you mean?"

"He's coded his diary just like he would his research notes, but in a different way. You see, Alchemy is a science, so it requires you to know a lot of stuff about Chemistry, Biology and even Physics. Take a look at this page and tell me what you think." Breda handed it over, and Havoc settled his eyes on a page, and began to read it.

"The science seems a little basic. Like something even Falman would know."

"Exactly." Breda grinned knowingly now, "if he used alchemical knowledge instead, then he would be giving away the contents of his travelogue, which would be pretty dumb. But, since he's an alchemist, you wouldn't go wrong with assuming that he'll carry something scientific with him. So, if someone were to pick up the diary, and then read it only to find out it's full of mediocre trivia knowledge, then their curiosity would be quenched and they would lose interest."

Havoc's mouth spread into the widest smile he could muster, "you could really figure all of that out?" he said in awe of the man.

"Come on, I'm not stupid." Breda smirked.

"So how do we crack the code?" Havoc asked eagerly.

Breda thought for a moment, "Well, we can't ask the Major. He would find it suspicious that we were looking through Ed's diary in the first place, and he might refuse to help us. But we're lucky it's all written in this code, otherwise we'd be stuck for an alchemist."

"So anyone with enough scientific knowledge could crack it?"

"Basically, yeah, but it won't be me. I know my way around a chess board, but science isn't my strong suit." He frowned, but then, an idea hit them simultaneously and they both stared at each other, grinning from ear to ear.

"Falman!" They said in unison.

"Now we're on a roll!" Havoc beat the air with his fist, laughing.

"Edward's more secretive than he lets on." Breda smiled from his triumph. "He doesn't want us to know his private matters, so he'll satisfy us with something else. He's a lot like the Colonel like that."

* * *

Author's note: Today is this fiction's first birthday! It was a year ago today that this fiction was published on fan fiction, and I'm glad that I've kept it going for this long. I've really enjoyed writing it and, of course there's a lot more to be written. I want to thank all of you that read and review this fiction, because I love to hear your opinions, that and I don't put up a chapter until I get at least one review for each chapter. I also want to thank all those who read it, even if you don't review. It's up to you honestly.

This chapter was named Liberate from the album Believe by the artist Disturbed, but I think I chose this song mainly because it sounded like it would be coming from Neo's point of view, especially when he's giving Roy a good kick up the butt. Listen to it, Neo might as well be _singing _this song! Also, I love the lyrics in the bridge, they're deep, like Morpheus deep, and they sound like they could be sung by him! These are how they go:

"Out of Zion shall come forth the law and the word of the Lord from Jerusalem, 'Nation shall not raise sword against Nation, and they shall not learn war anymore.' For the mouth of the Lord hath spoken."

I love those lyrics! Of course, because of those lyrics, I thought this song would be used for a later chapter, but that doesn't matter. It fitted here somehow. Go on groove shark and I guarantee that you will love this song! Neo main voice, Morpheus deep under-voice. You'll love it. And the chorus is fantastic! "Waiting! For your modern messiah! To take away all the hatred! That darkens the light in your eye! Still Waiting, I!" Can you see why this fits?

Now, let's bring Roy into discussion. I can remember being sent a message from Tash and being asked about maybe Roy having some flashbacks. And, I hadn't actually thought of that myself, and since I felt it would be a nice touch, and the kind of thing you would wake up from after surgery, it seemed fitting. Some nice, but vague flashbacks, I won't talk about them in detail, because that'll only serve to spoil the plot, but hopefully this has given you some new insights into Roy as a person, as the last section will have. Honestly, the four-panel about Roy and Havoc was one I came up with on the spot. I couldn't believe it when I came across this observation, but it's funny in a childish and innocent kind of way I guess. Nothing rude, just childish!

But anyway, moving on: I can't believe we've finally reached the 15th chapter! It's one of those shocks for me as well, because I thought this crossover would be one of those that I got a little far and then stopped writing completely. You know, a little like my Friends crossover actually. I don't know what I'll do with that one. But I'm glad I've really gotten into this one and want to carry it on 'til the end. As I've said many times, I know where I'm taking this, so there's no fear of writer's block waiting around the corner for me.

Right, I hope you share my excitement! I shall get on with Chapter 16! Oh, this is a little news flash for you guys: Chapter 15 is the longest one yet! You might think I'm lying because Chapter 12 currently holds that title, but it's true. Even though Chapter 12 has more pages, Chapter 15 has more content that's pure chapter poundage. Chapter 12 became the longest before because of the extensive author's notes and the omake as well, which went down well as far as I know. I should really work on making these author's notes shorter, shouldn't I? I doubt any of you actually read these things. Ha, I think I'll quit right now while I'm ahead.

Please review and at least tell me what you thought of the Wake! You see, it was one of those things when I wasn't sure at all what detail I was going to be packing into those sections, but it all worked out for the better I feel. I had planned for wanted posters to be put up for Roy and Edward, but I think I needed some sort of reason, and the reason just sort of jumped on me! Best thing that's jumped on me so far, let's hope I don't meet the worst thing to jump on me in an alleyway! I had a good time writing Hayate's part and Madam Christmas being hysterical though. Hopefully you'll enjoy a lot of this too.

Thank you for reading this far!

Ophelia Davis


	16. Asylum

Author's note: One of the sections below contains some adult themes of a naughty nature that you may be too young to view. I'm not talking about full blown nudity, but they are hints of sexual goings on, so please heed this warning and maybe be at least 13 years old to read this chapter or at least that section, ok? Thank you ~

Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal alchemist or The Matrix, but possibly the plot that weaves them together.

"_What is the most innocent place in any country? Is it not the insane asylum? These people drift through life truly innocent, unable to see into themselves at all. _– Arthur Miller

He staggered limply. His mouth was dry. His throat felt sore and weak. His arms ached. He'd been carrying it for so long. His hands held up two metal bars fixed together by a white sheet with the words written upon it distinctly in black: "NO SHIP LEAVES THE DOCK!" he held it high. He couldn't let his strength falter, despite the lack of rations. But if he left to eat, a ship's crew would take this as an opportunity to leave, and he couldn't allow that.

The Captain. _His_ Captain had suffered a terrible fate because of him, and he had to make up for it, and he knew how. He had to notify them of the danger; make sure no one left, so that they could be spared the grief.

They stared at him, anger pulsing in their heads; he could feel their stares, hard and threatening. But the message was keeping them grounded, and knowing that, he could not falter. Slowly, a group was building around him, three ships worth of crew, but they weren't standing with him. All against him, mad; he could tell that they would break into violence at any moment, but he still held that sign; held it high above their heads. They couldn't stop him now, not while the sign was yielding this many results.

There was a sudden breach in the group and it broke in two. A loud, deep voice echoed throughout the Dock and the group began to fragment.

'Ok! Move along! Nothing to see here! You're fine to board!' The voice called out, and crews climbed into their respective ships.

His eyes opened in alarm and he yelled out in panic. 'No! What are you doing? They can't board!' he tried to run after a ship to stop its crew, but the tall man held him back. He was strongly built, a dark, bald man with a mean look in his eye.

'What the hell are you doing?' he shouted.

'Thaddeus! There's something out there!' he answered frantically, 'if you let them go, they won't come back!'

'Look, Link, is it? I don't know what you're trying to pull, but unless you have proper notification from the Council, any ship can leave!' Thaddeus growled in admonishment. He barged past Link and made his way to his ship, his crew followed obediently behind him.

Link dropped his sign, and it landed with a clang on the metal platform. He scrabbled after them and he grabbed hold of a woman's arm. She turned quickly to confront him; her eyes were narrowed with anger.

'You believe me, right? Jue?' She kicked him in the stomach, he let go and landed on his butt.

'Please…' He gasped as he clutched his stomach, 'Tell Thaddeus not to board.' He looked up at her hopefully.

She looked down on him, narrowed her eyes and then turned away to join the crew.

Link looked up as their backs disappeared up the ramp. He got to his feet slowly. He had to stop them, use any method he could. He looked behind him. The sign was still there. He grabbed for it, held the two pipes together and ran after Thaddeus's ship. The ramp hadn't closed fully. He got to the ships base and, swinging it back, whacked down on the ramp. The pipe kept slipping in his hands, his arms were still tired and aching, but he kept going. Whacking the ramp, hoping to slow its closure, or make a dent; anything that would stop the ship from taking off.

Thaddeus appeared at the doorway, and growling, he stomped his way down the ramp and pushed Link away.

'What the hell are you trying to prove?' He growled.

'Captain Flint…' Link rolled up off his side and sat up. 'I couldn't do anything. I'm a worthless operator, but that doesn't mean it wasn't my fault.'

'What are you blabbering on about?'

'If you take off in that ship, you'll come across an unimaginable terror! Your crew won't survive! And if it's allowed to carry on, then neither will Zion! Trust me! We need all our ships here in case it reaches us; otherwise, all hope is lost!'

Thaddeus's frowned deepened and he smirked through it. 'You're starting to sound like ol' Deadbolt.' He grimaced.

'And I don't want to, but trust me on this one; Zion will be safer with you here.' He tried to reason.

'Well, at least now we have a mission.' And he turned back up the ramp, before it could shut completely, he called out from inside. 'You'd better clear off, or the electricity's going to hit you!' the pads on the ship began to glow a deep blue, getting brighter and brighter. Alarm bells rang in Link's head and he ran clear of the ship's take off. Electric volts thrummed from the pads and the ship began to levitate. It rose further and, as the Dock dropped its shield, the ship ascended further, and soared down one of the surrounding pipes. Link dropped limply to his knees. He'd failed Flint.

-/\*_;)(-

He kicked off with his right foot and placed it quickly on the board. The air sailed past him smoothly, whistled a lulling hymn in his ear and he greeted it with a small smile. His skill was natural, the balance needed was easily acquired, and he swayed the board into an array of small turns. It weaved across the concrete, a tamed wooden creature in its natural habitat.

He wanted to go faster, to turn that hymn into an unmelodic roar that would chase away everything, including his thoughts, out of sight. But the need for it didn't stop him remembering the caution _he _would often shout.

_Be careful! You'll fall off if you go too fast!_

Him, his brother, he couldn't forget him. His mind filled up with his face, his voice his words; it caused the memories to seize his brain, they all yelled at once, working, living, eating, breathing, crying, laughing, screaming, and dying. Though his body was not open to sound, the noise was deafening. He screwed his eyes shut and clutched his hands to his ears. His body started to shake, the board jolted forward from beneath him and he fell onto his back. He yelped, but he didn't make the effort to get up.

He could hear the board roll away out of sight, but he didn't look to see where it had gone. Instead, his eyes looked up to the skies. He had to wonder, because he wasn't sure; because something had to make sense, if at all. Where would he have gone? Could he join him one day? He shut his eyes slowly as wetness collected at their corners, letting the fluffy white clouds fade into black depressive emptiness. Depressive? Was that right? It was a refuge, somewhere he wanted to be when things were too hard to deal with. So, that's the phrase then: comforting emptiness.

The black faded into something more bodily. He looked up and could make out a ceiling at least. He frowned finally, realising where he was.

_Why was I dreaming of him again…?_

He frowned deeply, but it softened as he stretched and yawned. The door opened before him and he sat up to find Mouse's head poking through. Mouse smiled in his direction, but he worried his brow.

'Edward?' he asked, 'Are you coming for breakfast?'

Edward gave him a jumbled look, "It's morning already?"

'Yeah, you've been asleep a long time.' He grinned sheepishly.

Edward sighed, "Alright, I'm getting up." He brought his legs to the edge and got to his feet. Mouse nodded and shut the door. Once he had left, he sat back down on the edge and cupped his face in his hands. What could he do now?

-/\*_;)(-

He stepped wearily down the corridor from his room and heard the shouts echo through the walls of the top deck; it erupted at his core and chased away his fatigue. His eyes followed the voice and he found the man with his arms outstretched, stomping around another man in a circle, begging, requesting, and ordering his services. This waiting game was proving too much.

'Neo, just calm down-.' He tried to reason, but the other was shouting again, so much so that his words were incomprehensible amidst the roar. But despite his infinite patient, he couldn't take anymore, something had to give, and that something was Neo if only by Morpheus's force. He flattened Neo's arms to his side and stared into him, hoping that, just this once, if looks could paralyse, 'I know we only have three days, but we'll think of something. We'll have a plan, believe me.'

'You said that yesterday.' Neo seethed through gritted teeth.

'And I meant it, but these things take a lot of planning and consideration.'

Neo frowned his impatience, or from what Edward could tell was a frown anyway.

'When Edward's up and ready, we'll get him to look at your sketch, and we'll work something out from there.' Morpheus did something then, because Neo relaxed and went a little slack. Morpheus released him, turned, and smiled warmly down at Edward. 'I'll be with you in a moment, Edward. You go on and get something to eat.'

Edward nodded in response and turned for the kitchen.

He got himself a bowl and dispensed a serving of ration and picked up a spoon, he then sat down at the table and began to eat. From the dirty bowls on the side he could tell that everyone else had finished. He was the only one there.

Before he realised he was half-way down his serving, Morpheus came and sat down beside him, smiling warmly in his way. Edward looked up at him, and, sighing, put the spoon down in his bowl.

"Neo's still worried for Trinity then?" Edward asked.

He frowned, 'Yes, it's putting him on edge. He can feel a little lost when he hasn't got a plan, it makes him feel uncertain about things, and it makes him impatient.' His lips perked into a smile, 'she's been a lifeline for him ever since he joined our crew, and she's made accepting his duty a lot easier than if he was going it alone. She's been his motivation, just as finding your brother is yours.'

Edward smiled a little at that.

_I do still have to find him, but, with everything that's been going on… it's not procrastination, is it…? No, it's serious matters. It's always been serious matters, that and Morpheus's rule. Once this is over, I'll be able to go looking for him. I'm sorry, Al, I've made you wait a while, haven't I? _

"I'm sorry, Neo's angry because of me; I should've made myself more available."

'Don't apologize. You can't blame yourself; you're doing all that you can, and you needed the rest. But, as long as you're willing to help, then we'll be able to put this anger behind us.'

"I'm ready when you need me." Edward smiled, and he picked up his spoon again, taking another mouthful. As he finished the last of it, a sense of urgency caught in his stomach. "Oh! How's Roy?"

Morpheus chuckled, 'he's been moved out of Recovery. He's in his own bed now, so if you would like to take some food for him, then I would be more than happy to let you.'

"What about Neo?" Edward asked, pointing in the direction of the Top deck.

'I'm sure he can wait a little longer.' Morpheus smiled. He got up, made up a bowl and passed it to Edward for him to take. 'Go on, he should be hungry by now.'

"Thanks." He nodded and he stepped eagerly out of the kitchen and down towards Roy's room.

He stared up at the door and knocked, this time with less apprehension. He waited for a response, but wasn't surprised when a veil of silence ensued.

"_I'm coming in_." he called, and he wrapped his hand around the doorknob, turning it and allowing him entrance. He smiled when he found Roy was awake and resting against the back wall. It seemed like a good sign of recovery at least. _"I've brought you some breakfast, if you want it." _But Roy didn't turn to look at him; he just stared into space, constantly out of his gaze.

_Has he been like this all the time? _

He looked to Roy's bedside chair and found another bowl resting on, probably never been touched. He walked up to Roy's side and looked into the bowl. The rations had started to congeal, growing thicker and hardening around the edges of the bowl, the spoon had slipped into the glop as if it was willing to drown. There was no doubt there wouldn't be anyone brave enough to retrieve it. He frowned, took the bowl and slid it under the chair and sat down in its place. He rested the new bowl in his lap.

But Roy never reacted to his movements, he looked blinkered, as if Edward was living in a blind spot and he never saw him come into the room in the first place.

_"Come on, Roy, you can't just waste food like that. If you left it any longer, I bet it would start to stink." _Edward smiled a little in encouragement, but Roy didn't peer his way.

He looked about the room, it seemed bigger than his own, there seemed to be more floor than Edward had been granted, as if it was fit for a Captain.

_Even when we should be the same rank, you're always going to get it better than others, aren't you? _

His eyes fell back onto Roy, who was still staring into that space as if it had more significance than the food sitting in Edward's lap, and he looked him up and down. Things had changed. The silence was unlike him, and the staring wasn't normal; he'd expected some kind of fight or vying for control, but he seemed to have given up on that. Was it maturity? Insolence? Fatigue? He couldn't be sure; how could he know, if he couldn't be told?

He began to see him in a new light; Roy's hands clutched at the sheets in a pathetic weakness that he hadn't seen in him before. His face contained pallor that he hadn't before thought possible and he had bags under his eyes, purple, as if staring and staying awake was absorbing his energy. His gaze travelled up from his dark, empty eyes and up to his hair. It was getting longer, almost to the length it used to be, and the larger span of black contrasted starkly against his skin.

But something else caught his eye. They seemed to be coming in flecks the further they travelled from the centre of his head, but as his eyes travelled further in, he found a pronounced, thick line that traversed through the central whorl, down the back of his head and almost to the hairline above his brow; a cutline for a sadistic executioner who wanted to do things a little _differently _this time around. On a man his age, Edward never expected to find them just yet, but there they were; pale like his skin and as obvious as if they were holding white surrender flags up from the blackened, burnt and bombed grounds of a battlefield. Grey hairs.

He grinned from ear to ear, but tried to suppress it until it came out as a thin-lined smirk.

"_You know," _Edward began, _"If you don't eat this, then I'm just going to have to feed it to you myself."_ The remark lacked the attention it needed from the chosen listener. _"Spoon feed it to you like a baby, or a dribbling old man if you'd prefer." _He took up the spoon from its sinking voyage in a sea of glop and served some of the contents onto it.

He offered the spoon, but Roy didn't turn to look at it. Edward sighed and dropped the spoon back in the bowl, and mixed the rations limply. _"The quicker you get fed, the quicker I'll be able to change your diaper, baby. No, old men have them too, don't they?" _he asked with a tinge of mirth, but Roy paid no attention. _"I'm just asking, because as far as old men go, you must know from experience, right?" _his eyes still carried that same empty look, void of emotion.

Edward frowned impatiently, _"Come on, you've got to be hungry by now, right? Or are you fed up with this stuff already, because I know I would be." _He forced on a little smile. _"You could think of it as oatmeal. If you eat some, it'll put some hairs on your chest, or in your case, some black on your head." _He thought he saw Roy's eyebrow twitch, but he couldn't be sure.

He sighed finally and spooned up some glop. _"Well, you've left me with no other choice." _He started sputtering aeroplane noises as his spoon began to take flight. The pilot was too inexperienced for loop-the-loops and risky turns, and so with smooth curves and a sure target, his goal was inarguably clear. He made the whir of a siren as the spoon swooped closer to his target. _"Mayday! Mayday! We're heading for a wall! Target's more shut than a virgin's legs! Get ready to crash! Shit! The escape button! It's jammed!" _From his mouth came the mock squeaks of a pilot screaming for his life. _"Aaah!" _The spoon end crashed between Roy's lips and into a protective row of teeth. Edward frowned deeply, and tried to work the spoon between them, but amidst the struggle, the contents fell from the spoon and onto the sheet. His chest felt heated with frustration, but he tried to bury it along with the remains of the pilot that fell from his majestic plane, The Spooner.

He wiped up the serving onto his spoon and looked at it. It had already picked up the hair in the sheets and he chucked it away onto the floor at his side. He picked up another dollop and worked up another playful smile. _"Come in command, this is The Spooner 2, ready for my mission!" _

Edward made his voice go gruff, _"You're mission is to dock in the mouth of the Flame. It is a simple, yet treacherous mission, and I want zero mistakes! You hear me?"_

Edward squeaked up his voice to assume the pilot's role. _"Sir, yes sir! You ready Flame you old bastard? Get ready for a dose of my kamikaze! Destination, your mouth! That other pilot Jeff was useless, but he was up against a big old brute! I can sympathise! But you won't win against me! I'm a whole other spoon of glop, mister! You won't stand a chance! I'm ready for take-off!" _His plane swooped up into the sky and he reiterated the plane's engine. This pilot though was a lot more experienced and he did a daring turn towards Roy's face proper. _"I won't give in!" _he squeaked, _"I'll explode if I have to!" _he dove in closer towards Roy's lips, but then a surge of apprehension overcame the pilot. _"Shit! I've changed my mind! I don't want to die! Aaah!" _the spoon broke through the smallest gap in Roy's lips, but the head of it was no match against the bone wall.

His hand shook as he tried to shimmy the spoon into his mouth, but despite Roy's blank stare, he was more guarded than he let on. He gave one last surge of effort, but plastic was nothing against that wall. He let the spoon go weak in his hand and he reversed it from its target. It was a mission withdrawal. The heat rose from his chest and into his face, and he placed the spoon unsteadily in the bowl. He stood up, took the old bowl from under the seat and placed the new bowl in Roy's lap. He moved his hands so that they held the bowl and stopped it from spilling over.

"_If you wanted me to leave, you should've just fucking told me." _He growled angrily and stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Hearing the door click into its jamb, Roy's eyes averted from that space where his thoughts seemed to linger. He noticed the weight in his lap and found the bowl lying there, full and with a spoon ready. He searched for a memory of what Edward might've said, might've done. His eyes flickered suddenly.

He worried his lip, his brows knitted up and tears dripped suddenly down his cheeks. He whimpered, clutching the bowl close, his ration became a soggy mess.

_Daniel… _

-/\*_;)(-

He climbed up the ladder with an angry quickness, strode across the top deck and stood by the row of seats. Mouse was sat at the monitor with Tank. Neo's arms were folded impatiently while Morpheus looked down at him pointedly.

'Has Roy eaten anything?' He asked, smiling a little.

"No, and he wouldn't let me feed him either, but that doesn't matter. I'm ready to help." Edward nodded.

'Ok, Neo, pass him your sketch?' Morpheus asked Neo, and the man's hands went to his back pocket. He unfolded the piece of paper and passed it hurriedly to Edward. His eyes scanned over the detailed figure that had been drawn on the paper, the pencil marked clearly the features of the figure so that he would be unmistakable at any glance. They then went to the tattoo that was by its side and he committed each sketch to memory.

"You're a pretty good drawer, Neo." Edward whistled in awe of him.

'Have you seen him at all before? Envy? The tattoo?' Morpheus asked.

"Not Envy." Edward frowned, "but I've definitely seen the tattoo before. I saw it once in an alchemy book when I was younger." Edward nodded, "it was attached to a note about artificial humans, but that's all I know."

'Then he's definitely from your Matrix.' Morpheus confirmed.

'But we still need a plan.' Neo scowled, and he rolled his hand to make them hurry.

'I've told you already, Neo. Calm down, we're going to do everything we can.' He glared at him, and Neo tried, with visible effort to calm himself, if only to avoid the consequences if that glare was not heeded. Morpheus sighed finally, 'in that case, if Envy carries that tattoo, then we can assume he's an artificial human being. We'll have to expect any power he might possess as a result of that when we go to the hotel.' Morpheus reasoned.

"But we don't know what those powers are, which makes things difficult." Edward frowned.

'Gee, you think?' Neo snapped.

'Can you remember any of the information from your books about artificial humans; anything that might clue us in to their powers?' Morpheus asked, ignoring Neo's comment.

Edward thought for a moment, stroking his chin in concentration.

"The only things I can remember were that they couldn't use alchemy, they couldn't reproduce and that they defied the natural laws of humans. If I read anything else on them, then I can't remember it, although that's not surprising. I was only 7 at the time." Edward shrugged.

'We'll just have to expect anything at this point.' Morpheus sighed.

There was a sudden fizzing noise and Mouse jolted back in surprise. Tank stared at the screen in bewilderment.

'Um, guys?' Mouse asked fearfully, 'is the monitor _supposed _to do that?' Edward, Morpheus and Neo gathered around Mouse and Tank and stared at the blank white and black wash of monotone waves that consumed the monitor screen. Then, a large black square stretched over the middle of the wash, and a white square appeared in the middle of that. The white square transfigured into a video and they all stared into the dark trappings of a room.

A figure rolled into view on a wheeled chair and grinned at them manically. Edward's eyes narrowed in a sense of recognition, as did Neo's, who growled, almost unhinged at the sight of his enemy.

"Something tells me you're not pleased to see me." Envy grinned; his voice was tinted with a metallic sound that panged inside Edward's head.

"So, you must be Envy." Edward growled.

"Ah ha!" Envy laughed, "I'm so pleased to know that you, pipsqueak, of all people know who I am! But we've never met, have we? Have your pals been talking about me behind my back?" he pouted.

'What have you done with Trinity?' Neo roared, grabbing a hold of the monitor.

"I just couldn't resist." He snarled, "I tried so hard to listen to Mr Smith, but I just couldn't let this opportunity go by without letting you all in on the fun I've been having!" He grinned from ear to ear.

'You-! IF YOU'VE TOUCHED HER!' Neo warned.

"You'll do what? Lie in the dirt? It didn't work last time!" He crowed.

'You fucker! WHERE IS SHE?' He screamed.

"Calm down, calm down!" He waved his hands jovially as a signal, and he rolled to the side. "She's right here, that is, if you _want _to see her."

They could tell through the green haze of the night vision that the furniture had been pushed to the edge and, in the middle; a black and white heap was curled up on the floor. She breathing heaved erratically and slowly, she uncurled her head from the protection that her chest seemed to give. Half of her face was covered in a white strip, tied over some of the wet, black mess of hair. Blood stained her chin as it had trickled from her lip and her face was covered in bruises. Her arms were wrapped to her body and bound into a strait jacket. Her ankles were tied together.

'TRINITY!' Neo screamed with wide eyed horror.

"She can't hear you." Envy sneered. "But if I were you, I'd take one last look at your love. Let's just say I'll be leaving you in the dark from here on in." he stepped back from the screen and red volts screeched and enveloped his whole body. Neo watched in disbelief as suddenly the being grew taller, stronger, as leather wrapped up his legs, up his body and a jacket fell down from the neck and cloaked his arms. His very face was staring back at him, grinning widely, but cruelly. He never thought his face could wear such a mask of deceit. "Let your imaginations run wild!"

The green hazed square turned white and dissipated into the black and white wash. Suddenly, the wash wiped itself clean and the normal functions of the monitor returned to normal.

-/\*_;)(-

Her chest burned up with frustration, her skin flared up in agony, made worse by the curtain of darkness that clung to her eyes and refused to let go no matter how much she struggled. It clung and made the pain worse, made her head ring out like alarm bells with each loud footstep that came closer. She couldn't overcome this feeling. Flesh, blood, bone; people, a whole civilisation, all writhing beneath the skin and she could hear them. Screaming, crying, calling for a help she needed herself. All crying beneath that one presence, and their scent, what marked them as _them, _it swallowed her up so that she couldn't shake it away.

The footsteps got closer, she flinched away from each one; she made herself ready to scream, so much that hers would mould with theirs until they all became one, until all were victims to this one presence.

She heard this movement of fabric, of muscle working and she felt a breath on her face; warm, tingling, comforting.

"Trinity…?" the voice asked. The alarm bells ceased, and she gasped audibly. A wave of relief broke against the sands of her body, and she shook as warm tears crawled down into the depths of her darkness.

'N-Neo…?'She wept and she nudged herself towards the presence, following the warmth.

"Trinity…" The voice soothed warmly, and, feeling the legs of the presence being close, she coiled around them, but she didn't feel his touch reciprocate.

'Neo, please, get me out of here. I can't stand it anymore.' Her beseeching whispers were said through gritted teeth.

"…I can't." his voice seemed cold, distanced.

'…no, you must-!'

"How can I save what I don't love?" that word lingered on his breath, stinging her very being. It caught in her breath, made her falter, until her face creased up.

'You're not Neo.' She frowned heavily.

The presence didn't, or just maybe, couldn't answer.

Suddenly, the air cracked and seethed, she thought she could see the strips of strange light penetrate her darkness, but it soon went away and the presence felt different again. She uncurled herself from it; it made her body go rigid.

"How did you guess?" That low, yet feminine voice cooed in her ear and all at once a sick feeling churned in her stomach.

'Neo would never say that.' She answered; her voice was sure in her conviction.

"You really think so?" she felt a tug on her shirt and she was pulled free of the ground.

'I do. I know Neo, and it would kill him to say he doesn't love me. And yet you mimicked his voice, and made him say it without apprehension. You were a dead give-away.' She smirked. A force caught her stomach; she flew, winded, into brick some feet behind. A metallic taste clogged her mouth. There was a moment of weightlessness until she fell onto something hard. She rolled from it and onto tougher ground.

"You obviously don't know him well either!" the presence cackled. "The last time I saw your precious Neo, he wasn't trying to save you! He was just lying in the dirt like a pathetic dog, dying in a ditch! There wasn't any struggling, no death threats, no nothing! All he did was ask what I would do, just to keep his conscience clear! Are those the actions of a man who loves his woman? Huh? Come on, tell me! Unless you know I'm right!" the presence seemed to sneer, she could almost see it through her darkness as she looked up towards the being. She looked away, hoping for a reason.

'He…There was a rule…He couldn't use his powers-.'

"Ha! Rule, shmool! If he loved you so much then that wouldn't have mattered! He would've broken any kind of crummy rule just to take you back! Instead, he laid there and watched you be taken away! You know what?" And she felt the presence's breath on her skin. "I bet he _wanted _you gone! Couldn't stand you! Wanted someone else! You know him, what do you think, hm?"

Her eyes whizzed for an answer. Her breathing became erratic. The idea, it drove the heat into panic, made it evolve, possibilities, schemes, plans built up in her head, all directed to his voice, his face, his way and his actions. It formed around them both until it moulded into one, trapped purposefully behind the comfort of closed doors and away from her prying eyes. The cries of evolution that would fall dead on its heel radiated throughout the walls, from the door. She couldn't see it, but oh god could she hear it. The darkness, the suspicion, the lack of information made them that much louder; deafening.

Her eyes widened, her breaths got caught in her chest, and they heaved sporadically. She had to fight to get the breaths in, and fight even harder to breathe them out again. The idea made her gag and choke for the notion that was there before. She wanted to keep it for her own, no one could have it, no one could take it, not ever; she curled up into a ball, hoping to preserve it.

-/\*_;)(-

'NO! TRIN!' Neo screamed, he shook the monitor, but he couldn't bring the square back. His grip went limp and he let go. He stepped back from between Edward and Morpheus. His knees shook. They buckled from beneath him and he sat in a heap on the floor. He held his head in his hands and whimpers started to escape from behind them.

Morpheus crouched down before him and put his hands on his shoulders.

'Neo, go and get some rest. You need to calm down. We'll carry on from here.' His voice was warm and comforting and Neo nodded hurriedly, wiping the tears away. He stood up shakily. 'Mouse, why don't you go and help him?' He smiled. 'You could use some rest too.'

'Er, I don't think I-.' Mouse started hesitantly.

'He could always use some company though, hm?' Catching Morpheus's gaze, he stood up from his seat and hurried to Neo's side. He supported him before the ladder and, once down it, he helped Neo through the corridor.

"We'll have to be extra careful when we go to the Hotel then, won't we?" Edward asked and Morpheus's gaze settled back onto him.

'Yes, but you mean when _we_ go to the Hotel. You won't be going.' He answered, and Edward glared up at him, as if the notion was absurd.

"What are you talking about? I want to help! I told you that!" Edward urged.

'You will still be helping, but without your cooperation here, the mission could fail.' His face fell into seriousness.

"Wait! Hold on a second! What do you want me to _do?_" Edward scowled.

Morpheus took a hold of his shoulders and held his gaze. 'Before I tell you, I need you to promise me, that you'll _never _go back into the Matrix. Can you do that?' he asked; Edward looked down out of his gaze, before finally bringing it back.

"I can't promise you that." He answered. "Alphonse is still stuck in the Matrix, and if I make that promise then I'll be giving up on my search for him."

Morpheus's face became strained and he looked down with an air of disappointment. He flickered back to focus on him. 'I understand, but right now, I'm asking you to fulfil your duties as Clier; the search-engine, he who holds all the answers.' The name then became a weighted burden on his shoulders. 'I have a feeling that, without me, this mission may not succeed, but neither can I put myself, or Zion, in danger. But we still have a chance; if you agree, and no one else on the ship knows of this, then we'll have won either way.' He smiled warmly, 'Now, can you promise me?

His mind raced, he struggled for an answer, and he knew Morpheus was waiting, but he wasn't going to wait forever. Suddenly, something clicked in his mind. He settled himself and looked straight into Morpheus's eyes. He nodded slowly, seeing now what he had to do.

"Ok, I promise."

-/\*_;)(-

"Here." He passed the book from out of his possession and into Warrant Officer Falman's hands while he stood over him by his desk.

"What is it?" Falman asked as he flipped through the pages, skimming along the words.

"Tell me, how good is your knowledge of science?" He asked absently, disregarding his question.

"I would say it was intermediate, why?" He asked, confused. He shut the book and looked at each cover until his eyes caught onto something. "Hold on, whose _diary _is this?" he asked, the diary had suddenly become an explosive in his hand, and he wanted to hold it at arm's length, were it not for Havoc pushing it back into his chest.

"Let's just say it's an alchemical journal. Now, we need these notes deciphering, ok?" he grinned, hoping his good humour would rub off.

"That's not the point! Whose diary is this?" He asked, summoning up more force.

"Well, I won't lie to you…" He averted his gaze, scratching the back of head.

"Just tell me!" He frowned.

"Ok, ok, it's Edward's." Havoc sighed.

"I'm not going to decipher these notes!" he scowled, "Did you ask anyone else?"

"We thought of asking Armstrong, but we decided not to. He wouldn't go for it."

"And I can see why! This is a complete infringement of privacy!"

"We'll pay you if that's what you want!"

"No, that's not what I want at all! And- hold on, who's _we?" _He asked.

"Well, Breda and me. But that's it! No one else is involved!" Havoc laughed hastily.

"And it should stay that way! This isn't a joke, you know." Falman frowned. "This is a _teenager's _diary, and you know how emotional they can get. They must have lots of secrets in there that they don't want anyone else to know and that must be why Edward coded it all. To keep out people like you! I won't let you use this against him!" Falman decided, taking the notes for himself.

Havoc sighed, and his face set seriously.

"I know where you're coming from. We'll pay you to do it, and we'll explain why we want the deciphered notes _after _you're done, but not before then, ok?"

"And you're not going to use these against him, are you?"

"No, we promise we won't." Havoc nodded.

He thought for a moment, until Falman set the diary in his desk draw.

"I'll think about it, but I'm not saying I'll decipher them, alright? This is just so that you can't ask anyone else."

"Insurance, I get it." Havoc smirked. "You certainly have the guts to disobey the orders of a higher ranking officer."

Falman stared at him, "You can court-martial me if you want, so long as you explain to the court yourself what you were going to do with them." He held his gaze steadily.

Havoc laughed, "Alright, I won't court-martial you, and I'll let you keep them for now. It's not like we're in a rush to find Fullmetal _or _Flame, right?" He turned and walked away from Falman, and left him stood by his desk, bewildered and unsure.

-/\*_;)(-

Slowly, with a cautious air, she uncurled herself. The darkness had still preserved its cushioning effect, closing in on her and wrapping her up tight. As she shook her head, she noticed the faint clarity that the cushion of darkness provided; forms and objects began to pronounce themselves, until she could make out the objects that lay near her. She looked about slowly for a reason, and found a window. The curtains were shut, but in thin white strips, the moonlight was giving her darkness meaning.

Suddenly, dark blackening clouds rolled into her peripheral view. From her side, where the clouds came from, she caught the sight of something long and low. The clouds barrelled from above it until they opened up to a great light. A form sat before her, his features were clear through the illumination of his eyes and hair. The Great Being. The Golden Child. The Favoured One. She gasped as he cast his warm smile down onto her bound form, loving, she thought, comforting, somehow.

'Edward…?' she found herself speaking his name, and his smile grew wider into a grin; a sign that he was on her side, but something was off about it.

His brow deepened into a look; suddenly, that grin was so cruel. He lifted his head and a cackle bounced from his throat, about the walls and into her very being. It spelt his triumph, it spelt her downfall.

"Look at you," he hissed as his golden, illuminating orbs narrowed onto her. "Crawling on the ground like a, _pathetic_, _pitiful_, _horny_, little _slut_." It made him laugh to see her face contort into that of shock. "You _deserve _to be there! God knows you've spent half your life on your _back!" _he stood up from his low seat.

The clouds began to coil onto themselves to form a pillar; they began to take shape, grow smaller from the ceiling until the clouds thinned away. She saw his face, pale and shaven, his hair was black, ruffled and short. His rich coffee brown eyes were free from the cloaks of sunglasses. His clothes were a laddered blue shirt and frayed black trousers; the uniform of the Resistance and of the Free. He couldn't look any better than when he wore those clothes, except when he was complete8ly free of them.

Her eyes widened as his right arm wrapped possessively around his waist and as he pressed himself close, as if they were joined at the hip.

"It's humiliating to watch you moon after him." He growled; his grin lost its perked edges. "You slut, how _dare _you even think you're _worth _so much. You're not even worth the sweat on his skin." He pressed his body into Neo's side and stuck out his tongue. His fingers caressed his head as he licked along Neo's jaw, following it slowly up to his brow. He pressed his lips to him, savouring the taste, letting it linger. His eyes peered into hers. Her eyes were focused on Neo's; they were closed, a faint blush was forming on his cheeks. She wanted to avert her eyes from it.

Suddenly, something gripped her throat. It clamped down, making her choke and gasp. She followed the long metal grappling arm and its owner easily. He grinned maliciously. His left eye was gone, replaced by a large, shining red disk, and smaller ones that circled around it. Just like one of _them. _There was no turning away from the horror.

"You should know by now." He sneered, and lifted her up by the neck until her feet felt nothing but air. "Equivalent exchange! To get something, you must give something of _equal _worth!" He threw her down to the ground, she lay there, curled up on the floor, something made her turn back up to meet his eyes "and you, you're worth _nothing _compared to him."

She gasped at the phrase. He retracted the long coiling arm to resume its form. The two gripping fingers divided into fingers.

His hands curled around Neo's shoulders and he leapt onto his hips. Neo immediately responded to hold him in place, supporting his butt. A moan escaped his lips as he pressed himself into Neo's form and fear was plastered across her face.

The reaction was simply worth it, "I believe _Neo _said that, did he not?" His lips kneaded into Neo's neck, and he kissed up to his ear, grinning at his own handiwork when he pulled back and throaty moans escaped him. "And he's right. How foolish you are, to think that your love for him could be worth all that he is?" His finger and thumb hugged Neo's chin and he turned his head to face her. "Its simple math," he hissed, "One equals One."

He brought Neo's face back to him and opened his mouth to seal his lips onto Neo's.

His tongue skittered around Neo's lower lip, and he opened his mouth to graciously accept the friction to come. They moaned together, their lips battled for competition, he tugged him closer. Neo brought his hands to Edward's hips, and he lowered him onto the building pressure, thrusting into him. He arched his back, pulling his head up to let out a keening moan.

He wanted, no, he _needed _more. This was not enough. He tugged him round to the low seat and made them fall. He bagged his place on top, straddled his hips and thrust himself madly down. His lips joined Neo's and their arms clutched each other close. Their forms, the very _idea _of their forms began to mould, become One. One equals one, two halves of the same coin, the same creator, the same program; two worlds joined together. Their worldly forces were unstoppable.

She knew it, and yet she wanted to deny its very existence, close her mind to it. But the clouds gripped her head in place. She yelped and struggled as the clothes came loose in their frustrated thrusts, but not even her voice could halt their evolutionary duty, even if it did nothing to forward development. No point, no climax, no meaning; they didn't care for what it couldn't bring, the future wasn't important, the present was their implication. She wanted back what belonged to her, and yet, she couldn't escape the guilt that would follow.

She screamed and jolted awake. A warm breath tickled her neck and she gasped as she acknowledged the presence.

"From the sound of your dream, you can see it now, can't you?" the voice lilted. "He left you for Edward. He left you for the Fullmetal Alchemist. How can _you _compete with that? Don't you see? You're better off here. Work for us, and you'll _never _have to see that bastard ever again. In fact, we'll teach him the consequences of cheating on you, together. What do you say? Hm?"

-/\*_;)(-

Edward's head felt heavy in his pillow. The new weight was something he was meant to be proud of. But how could he if he couldn't be granted the sleep he needed? He tossed onto his other side, but the malady was the same. He rose up slowly into a sitting position, his head lolled onto his shoulder. He stared out into the bodily darkness, hoping something was hiding in wait to knock him out cold, but there was no noise to suggest it, and no indication that it even existed. He sighed resignedly, and his feet went to the side of his bed.

He leaned against the frame of his door. The air, the darkness carried the lilts of sleeping breaths, they tugged at his ears, trying to remind him of where he should be. He turned to look up towards the ladder, wondering if there was a faint sound of typing to be heard. The usual light of the monitor had been extinguished a while ago, and no one was there.

That, except for Trinity's sleeping body; it seemed to be forever stuck in limbo, existed only for the fact that that was her vessel. The rest of her, her mind, the thing that harboured her identity, was stuck in an unreality where only the marks of bruises, stray leaks or raised heart rate could communicate to the Real world what her sleeping body dreamed of. He could understand his pain, to have her here beside him, but without response; only a painful memory of where he had failed so miserably. He had yet to see Neo caress her, or show any sign of affection, but that wasn't the ideal way to treat a corpse. Had he already given up hope?

He stood up from the door frame, and tiptoed slowly down the corridor, to the next room where Neo slept. He almost expected, wanted, to hear their clashing breaths and the rustle of sheets; something to remind others that it was impossible to come between them. From the way the door was left ajar, he could tell there was no light on in the room. The rustles, if there were any, were muted. Instead of loud clashing breaths, he heard the soft sporadic whimpers of a man encased in misery; softly weeping, as though it scarred his pride to do it.

As he lingered there, he saw the faint traces of light flickering from the corridor. He left the weeping mess, and stepped on towards it with silent curiosity. He turned the corner and found the light's source with ease. He kept to the opposing wall side and, once he'd reached the door, flattened his back against it, and peered in where the door was left open.

Edward's eyes fell immediately onto Roy, the man's face was still void of colour; his eyes were red and still stared blankly at the same spot in the room. Away from the door and away from the visitor at his bedside, right where eye contact was not attainable. His visitor held a deep frown; the bowl and its spoon rested in Roy's lap, but it lay untouched.

Roy continued to stare blankly into that space. He could see them properly now; they were so empty, and void. He seemed to stare without meaning, as if he was looking through the eyes of a corpse.

'_What exactly are trying to prove?' _Morpheus growled, but he wouldn't answer. He glanced away from him with a look of disgust._ 'Are you suffering here, is that it? Is it so bad that you feel the need to die?' _Roy flinched at his words, but he wouldn't face him. _'And you called Edward a coward. At least he can face up to responsibility. You, on the other hand, don't know the meaning of the word.' _He waited for a response, hoping Roy would show some protestation, but the room remained silent. _'There's no sense in you choosing death. You wouldn't be considered a martyr; how can you be when you don't believe in anything?' _

A strained whisper escaped Roy's lips, so quiet that he would've had to lean in to hear it.

'_What was that?' _Morpheus asked.

'_That's not true.' _Roy mumbled.

'_That's right.' _Morpheus smirked, _'you do believe in something. And what would they think if they saw you like this? Giving up on everything just because it's not fair? You're just being childish, and I know you're better than that.' _He stared hard at Roy, but he didn't respond. Morpheus dropped his admonishing face and sighed finally, _'if you at least ate something, then you'd get stronger. But, you won't and it's sad, because your body is not in a condition where it can allow you to do that. Right now, even three meals a day won't do you much good. It's a shame, because with your military experience, you'd be a great asset to this ship, despite your inability to use alchemy.' _But Roy stared into that empty space. Morpheus stood up from his seat and placed the bowl in Roy's lap. _'At least think about what I've said, if not for our sake, then for Riza's.' _

He started walking for the door. In a rush of panic, Edward backed away from it, hoping to hide in the darkness that followed after Morpheus turned off the flickering light. He waited, his breath bated and his back to the wall. As Morpheus shut the door behind him, he covered his mouth, and waited for Morpheus to make the walk back to his room. But, he didn't. He stood by the shut door.

'Honestly, you and Neo are two of a kind.' Morpheus turned to face him.

Edward averted his gaze, hoping that Morpheus couldn't see him in this darkness. He stepped away from the wall, rubbing his wrist. 'What are you doing out of bed?' he asked finally.

He blushed up guiltily.

"Err…W-well, I-er…I…couldn't sleep." He stuttered out finally.

In the bodily darkness, he was just able to make out the glint of Morpheus's warm smile. 'I see, you were worried for Roy,' he sighed, 'and so you should be.' He made a signal with his eyes, and obeying them, Edward followed. He trailed close behind Morpheus's footsteps, past Neo's room, and then to his own. He followed him inside and he sat down on the bed, letting Morpheus shut the door.

'Edward, I'm not going to lie to you.' He began and he sat down beside him, 'Roy isn't eating.'

"I know," Edward sighed sadly, averting his gaze from Morpheus, "He wouldn't let me feed him, no matter how hard I tried."

'He may be doing it on purpose. He's unresponsive, he isn't taking any food, and his recovery is slower than I anticipated. In fact, his body's defences are getting weaker, and even though we'll do everything we can to make sure that doesn't happen, there's not much we can do if his wound gets infected, that is, if he doesn't starve to death first.' Morpheus stared at him, but Edward didn't look back.

_What is the use of being the One, the saviour of humanity, when you can't even save one person!_

His thoughts kept racing, his stomach churned with anxiety, gripped with worry. He didn't want anything to disturb his thoughts. A faint voice began to penetrate his mind. It grew louder, until the words finally reached him.

'Edward…Edward…Edward! Look at me, Edward!' Morpheus growled angrily, and Edward gasped suddenly, glaring up at him. 'I'm sorry, Edward. The truth was too much for him. I'm sure he's doing this on purpose, because he wants to escape it.' 

Edward clenched his teeth; a fire flared in his chest, "No." Edward growled. "He's not trying to commit suicide! He's not the kind to give up that easily! He wouldn't! He's better than that, you said it yourself!" he hissed angrily.

'I know this is hard for you to understand, given the…circumstances.' Morpheus sighed.

"Circumstances? What do you-? You're trying to sum this shit up as circumstances? What the-!" Morpheus clutched his hand to Edward's mouth, and shushed him quietly with a finger to his lips.

'Edward, that's not what I mean.' He hissed, glaring into his eyes. 'I know how you feel for him. You want to do anything, everything you can in your power to protect him. It's not just a duty to your fellow subordinate anymore, is it? It's not because he's your superior officer, or a fear of getting court-martialed.' Edward's heart skipped a beat, a cold sweat ran down his neck and a lump grew in his throat. 'I'm right, aren't I? It's not just circumstances, because you…love him, don't you?'

Edward's eyes grew wider in their sockets, but did not relent as Morpheus drew his hand away.

'It must hurt,' he smiled, 'that he's hated you so much. No matter what you do, or how hard you try, he won't take down his guard or show you any gratitude for your actions.' He put an arm around Edward and pulled him close. 'Edward, you poor boy.' He spoke softly.

He wanted to draw himself away, hide himself in the shadows, just so that Morpheus couldn't cast his judging eyes upon him. What must he think knowing that his chosen one was defected; somehow too inefficient to carry out the duty he was given? He was built the wrong way, cursed with feelings he sometimes wished he didn't have; an outsider, a wolf in sheep's clothing, disgusting. He needed to be tied up, restrained, and locked in a room; the same place the insane go.

"H-How long…have you known?" He murmured, trying to choke back the welling tears.

'For a while now; I overheard you and Neo talking just after we left Zion.' He stroked his arm. 'To be honest, it came as no surprise when I found out. You are Neo's sole opposite, after all.' He smiled warmly. 'Although, I'm surprised Neo guessed before I did.' He chuckled softly, but Edward didn't return it.

"You must think I'm disgusting." He whimpered. "I-It's so wrong, he's a…a grown man! It'd be paedophilia in his case, but _me? _Y-You must think I'm s-some…_disturbed _kid, o-or, _sick! Tapped! _To think that I actually _want _him!" he buried his face in his hands and shook through his tears. "I disgust you, don't I? Admit it." he whimpered pitifully. "Please…"

He put the other arm around him and drew Edward into his chest. 'I won't let him die, Edward. I know what it's like, to have the one you love taken away. I understand, and it hurts.' He rubbed he stroked Edward's back. 'You're not disgusting, you're not confused; you're you, and that's all you can be. Don't be anything else.'

"But I'm not normal." He whimpered.

Morpheus laughed. He could hear the deep sound reverberate from his chest.

'Since when was being the One normal? Since when was being a state alchemist at 12 years old normal?' he chuckled. 'Edward, you're not normal, but if you were, Zion knows you wouldn't be here.' He sighed finally, 'I can't say I fully agree with your feelings for Roy, but if he doesn't reciprocate, then he has no idea what he's missing.' He pushed him from his chest and smiled down at him, gripping his shoulders. 'You are an intelligent, caring, kind, compassionate and handsome boy. If he can't see that, then it's his loss.'

Edward averted his gaze, "but he can't see that, can he? He can't see anything. He won't."

'I already told you, we won't let him die. If I can't get him to eat, then you can.'

Author's note: This chapter is named Asylum after the song by Disturbed from the album of the same name. This song, for me, was a good choice, though to be honest, it wasn't one that I fully considered would become a chapter title. What also intrigues me about this song is how it seems to speak from Trinity's point of view more than anything; it's also why I decided to have her in a strait jacket, just to make her torment more visual. In a way, it also seems to speak from Roy's point of view and the sort of mental battle he's fighting at the moment. He's been stung by Morpheus's words, though they were fuelled by Neo's more than anything else, and he's stuck between what he needs to believe and what he wants to believe. There are also loads of other things that he feels he needs to concentrate on, and then there's his past, and that's certainly hitting him hard. So, in a way, his mind is stuck in an asylum of its own, restrained by a strait jacket, and it's hindering him from taking in external nourishment, hence why the song fits so well. It even fits in with Edward; as you just saw in this last section, knowing that someone as powerful as Morpheus knows his secret makes him feel remorse and disgust for his own feelings and so he feels that he belongs in an asylum himself.

This chapter was one that, when it came to writing, came with its fair share of problems. To start with, I had to think about the section where Trinity is being abused by Envy; for starters, I had the thought of Trinity being hopped up on some kind of drug, one that would give her a hallucination much like the dream she had in this chapter. Of course, after a lot of research into different kinds of hallucinogenic drugs and a little pondering about the "Twilight zone" (a sedative in one arm, and an amphetamine –might not be the right word, but close-, so that you linger between the two states; much like being between sleep and consciousness, hence the name) I decided to go against the idea completely. I had had a thought about Envy transforming himself into Ed to give the same effect as the dream, but I remembered that Envy didn't know anything about Trinity's suspicions from chapter 13 or that Neo and Edward might show feelings of amore for each other, which is why I went for what I did.

Dreams were already a theme that I'd been using frequently, and they were often as fucked up as possible, so I had no problems there; that and Envy is an expert at manipulation. Being at the scene, he obviously knew how Neo had not tried his best to rescue Trinity, and worked that to his own advantage. He then planted a seed into Trinity's head, and that encouraged the growth of her suspicions of the two chosen One's in her dream. I'm glad that the chapter turned out like it did in that respect.

You see, I don't plan out these kinds of situations from the beginning, even though it might seem like it. In fact, what other author's won't tell you is that they don't plan in detail like that, but instead take the things they've written before and then twist it to their advantage, adding it to their character's perspectives and views. Well, I think that's what a lot of amateurs like me have done anyway. Professionals are the ones who plan so in depth like that, but I don't have that kind of luxury of time to do that to begin with. That's why I always tell you I plan my stories in my head; probably why I now have a really good memory for stories. I can retain the plots of at least two stories at any one time. Heck, who _doesn't _have a memory for stories, even if it's menial?

Another problem was that the first section didn't seem to engage in the story when I first wrote it; it just seemed to skim over this event like it didn't mean anything. It was then that I realised that, no matter how many years you've been writing, you still have to be able to engage in your stories, otherwise your readers won't either. This was especially troublesome since this was the first section of a chapter. I definitely tried to make it better, so if you did find any problems with it in the same respect that I've worded, then give me a good telling off, and I'll try and make it better the next time around. It must've been something to do with the fact that I know what's going on in the plot. I just can't wait to write out the Hotel plot to rescue Trinity that I just want to skim over everything else to get to it! Ok, calm down now, it's true what they say then; slow and steady wins the race.

Anyway, as far as I'm concerned, the plans for the Hotel plot are already in motion, so now I can just go with the flow, employing all the tricks I have collected over the years to go into this. I can even see the conclusion. Hopefully, you'll like the outcome!

I'll be honest here, I had meant for this chapter to be longer, but I think these chapters here will represent a day. So next chapter will be the next day, and then the next chapter will probably be the start of the plot, because that would be the third day. As for what goes in them, I won't say. I had had an idea for how this chapter might end dramatically, but it doesn't matter now, maybe for the next chapter? End of a section? Ok, you've probably heard enough from me now.

Thanks once again to Tash for all your messages and your lovely curiosity. You guys may not know it, but I have other projects in the writing business beside fan fiction. Thank you Tash for putting up with my deep, and probably meaningless, explanations for why I choose to do as I do. You have shown great tolerance, and I shall show it you in return. This chapter is a dedication to you!

Thank you though, to everyone else, for reading and reviewing this work so positively, it's great to know what you think of this crossover, being that it is the first of its kind, and may hopefully spawn others to do the same. Maybe we'll see a wave of authors being inspired to take on a challenge of their own and start writing their own crossovers, and ultimately giving the people who run this site a headache from all the server space that gets taken up. But that's the aim, right? Probably not.

We do this because we want to show others what we can do, that we are able and have the ability to write a chapter a week knowing we won't get paid! But for whatever reason we really write, I think that your reviews are our salary, our ointments and our warm wet flannels; doing this can cause stress for those who don't/can't write routinely, but your reviews make the effort worth it's while, especially when it's well-written and you can _tell _a lot of effort has been put into it.

Thank you for fuelling my hobby and my ambitions. You will never be forgotten!

Ophelia Davis

Before I leave you guys to get on with much more important stuff, I must tell you. Chapter 17 won't be up in two weeks as previously planned. I have decided that, what with the coming exams, that I won't update anymore chapters until they're over. This will probably be around the 18th June, so don't expect chapter 17 before then. Saying this though, the majority of you will be too busy with revision and exams to check out the updates anyway, which saves me the frustration of waiting for days on end without a review, which is something I hope will never happen!

I have also decided this because it has been a general pain in the butt trying to get chapter 18 written and finished. It has taken me weeks and weeks to get it done, so I think I need more time now to get ahead in the chapters before I can safely start updating again. Hopefully though, this chapter has left you enough to be getting on with.

Now, please don't start sending messages saying that Chapter 17 hasn't been put up yet! When is it going up? Because I have just told you now. If I do get complaints from anyone, then I'll just know that those are the guys who don't read the author's notes. You see, they are useful for something! If I get complaints anyway, then I will be tempted to remind you, but this will be time consuming, so I would rather avoid this if I can.

Thank you to those who read to the very bottom and heeded my notes! I wish you all the best of luck with your exams whether they be SATs, GCSE or A/AS Level!

Good Luck!

/tmp/uploads/FF_1442475_ 17of17 at 05:50:36 on21/06/2012 King Edward VII School


	17. Falling Inside The Black

"_Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before." _– Edgar Allan Poe

She leaned against a wall and sighed heavily, the light of the far away monitor illuminated her face. It creased with thought and she bit her lip as they ran through her mind, her arms folded in a form of concentration. Something had been tugging at her ever since that man had grabbed her arm, spilling his message and knocking on doors that even the sane feared to call upon, or that's what it seemed like. She wanted to think that his efforts were mindless, nothing but the endeavours of an operator going cuckoo. But she couldn't help but sense their genuine pressure.

_Thaddeus! There's something out there! If you let them go, they won't come back! _

The sense of urgency was clear in his voice as they echoed in her mind. Her brows furrowed. She closed her eyes, and sighed heavily, her face creased with regret.

_You believe me, right? Jue? _

Right before she forced him on his ass. She felt so heartless now that she had ignored his sincerity and chosen violence as the overall pacifier of feeling. She should have listened to him, enquired at least. She didn't even do that.

She had been so deep in her thoughts that she failed to hear the arrival of a being coming to stand before her. Opening her eyes, she recognised the man immediately, and he smiled warmly to her. Her drew her into his arms, and kissed her lips soothingly. As minutes passed, he finally withdrew his face from hers and studied her foreign features, her gaze averted from his.

'Is something troubling you? Jue?' he asked.

She sighed, as if relenting to the cool askance of his voice, 'Do you think we should have listened to him, Thad?'

'To who?' his eyebrows knitted in confusion through his smile.

'The operator, Link; do _you_ think there's something else out there?' she glanced back at him and watched as his knitted eyebrows furrowed and his smile fell. He sighed heavily.

'I think that the only things out there are the machines we've been fighting all this time.' He managed to lend a smile of reassurance, 'and the moment we start to fear them, that's the moment when we know we've lost.'

'But we do fear them; deep down, everyone fears them. That's why we hide in the shadows when we see them in the wormholes.' She answered, almost sternly.

'Only because we have little else against them; it's a fight for survival out there, and whether we will die today, tomorrow or even next week is still uncertain.' He wrapped his arms around her waist and once again she felt the warmth of his chest. 'I agree that Link may have been right to warn us, but I won't give it another thought. If we die because I chose not to listen, then I won't regret my decision; in a world like this, there's no time for regrets.'

She reciprocated his smile and it broadened as she kissed his lips. She released them finally, and buried herself deeper into his embrace

'Thank you, Thad, for telling me what I needed to hear.'

-/\*_;)(-

_Why? Why is he doing this to himself? _

He wanted, no, _needed _these questions answered. But that was impossible. The man was a brick wall; its cement was weakening to the point where its foundation could no longer hold it together and bricks had started to fall free from their frames. But it didn't seem to grasp that it could soon topple, and instead chose to do what it wanted without an ounce of reason. And yet, it refused to let anything else penetrate its defences, they were held up high; everything it protected at its back would only be safe for so long. It was only a matter of time before the clay would crumble and its loved ones would feel the bricks on their heads. Despite that outcome, it didn't care to respond. Maybe it knew it was weak, but couldn't care to be fixed; fate was easier to bear with than the cement mixer.

The only one who seemed to recognize the danger was curled tightly around his pillow, burying his face into its strangled form. His tears drenched its surface to the point where he couldn't care to wipe them from his cheeks.

He'd lost track of how long he'd been laying there. The last thing he remembered amidst the twilight zone was the movement of his body being dragged across the bed and his head being laid in the pillow he was now clutching. The sheets were then drawn across his body and something soft pecked his temple.

The man who had done that was a force to be reckoned with. He had cracked through his heavily guarded fortress with ease, discovered what was hidden between those four walls and quickly stole away from his soldiers' clutches with the knowledge wheeling in his mind.

But, did he use it as a weapon? No, only as a comforter. Yes, he knew, but it wasn't the root of the trouble. It wasn't something to be eradicated with senseless thought or action. He wasn't going to be banished, he wasn't going to be looked down or spat upon. Nothing would be achieved if a conflict was to be born from his darkest secret. The man knew that, and for that he was glad. As a gift for his highly valued reason and ingenuity, the doors were to be opened to him. The man would not need to scale the stone walls; he need not battle the guards any longer. He would be welcomed as a guest, invited to dine, engage in conversation with the King of the fort and he would be trusted with everything: his gold, his servants, his belongings, and his love. He could have everything of him if he wished.

And yet, this great man, who had proven himself capable of great feats, was somehow crippled at the sight of this crumbling wall. Not even he had the power to pierce this reinforcement. So how could he, whose secrets were discovered so easily, be worthy of the task when he had failed just like the others?

The lump grew larger in his throat and he choked out another whimper. He knew the answer. He was the one. He was the one that had cracked the wall. He was the one that had forced him into that state. It was his fault; entirely his fault. He knew it.

As Morpheus had spelled out the words to him in the bodily darkness, he could remember his inner self, cowering with strangled sobs at the man's feet; the pain of knowing what he had seen had become too great to bear. But, though he was vulnerable to any strike, the man before him lay down his sword and let it clatter against the stone floor. The metallic ring of it brought his mind back to that consciousness and he was taken aback as the great man kneeled down before him. Looking into his dark eyes from his submission, he heard the words very clearly.

_I can't say I fully agree with your feelings for Roy, but if he doesn't reciprocate, then he has no idea what he's missing. You are an intelligent, caring, kind, compassionate and handsome boy…_ _If I can't get him to eat, then you can._

A small smile began to form on his lips, and he wiped the tears from his eyes while still hugging the pillow close. That's right, he was responsible for Roy, he had said so himself. He was the one who brought him out. He was the one who broke him, so it was his responsibility to fix him as well. Roy needed him more than ever; that he was sure of. They've already come this far, it would be senseless to give up now.

His inner self clung to Morpheus in a deep embrace, thanking him profusely though it wasn't deemed socially acceptable for a King to lower himself before a warrior; they were far past the norms of etiquette. Screw the royal court, he had a purpose now.

He had overcome his own battle, but there was still a wounded soldier out there on the battlefield that needed his King. For the life of him, he knew that he had to help him overcome his battle, no matter the consequences; it had to be worth something.

He sat himself up slowly, his head lolled on his shoulder and he sighed in remembrance. He had other responsibilities as well; they would have to come first.

_I'm sorry Roy, there's still something I have to do; please, just hold on a little longer._

He wrestled himself to the edge of the bed, having released his pacifier. He had to serve his country. Only then could the soldier be saved.

-/\*_;)(-

His pen connected with the ledger and he began to scrawl. He flicked through the pages of paperwork before him and his eyes darted across the line of information before duplicating it in its basic form on the corresponding line. It was one of his more tedious chores, one that required little brain power, and seemed to insult his. But, a job was a job, and who was he to contradict an order?

Getting to the end of the page, he sighed finally, and replaced the pen back by the ledger's side. He rubbed his eyes tiredly and leaned back in his chair. Surely, he needed a bigger challenge; one that warranted the rank he had. He frowned finally and picked his pen back up, no, better to finish this. He started to write again; a requisition form for poster sized paper, an invoice for the ink needed for the printing, another requisition for a copy of the photos of Fullmetal and Flame that were on record. His eyes darted back across the forms.

They were still looking for Major Edward Elric and Colonel Roy Mustang, you didn't have to be a state officer to see the wanted posters that were being pasted around Central, and probably further afield as well. He glanced towards the right pedestal of his desk; his fingers seemed to curl around the handle of the top draw and he pulled it open automatically. The diary stared him in the face with its gold embossed numbers and black cover. Glancing about him, he found himself in an empty office. His hand went then for the diary and he picked it up carefully. He placed it on top of the ledger and glared at it.

He drew his fingers along the cover, outlining the edges and the letters. They curled around one side, and in a lapse of touch memory, they pulled it open. His eyes followed the messy scrawl in the top corner he assumed to be the owner's name. He could make out the rounded E's of the first and surname like backward facing 3s, the other letters were curly, with loops in the sticks of the ds, the l and the small circle that made up the emphatic dot on an i. He shut it suddenly, as if the time it had taken to analyse the handwriting was the timer of the bomb encased in the pages.

"Ok," he breathed, "Calm down, Falman. It's just a diary." He told himself.

_But it's someone else's, it's not mine, I have no right to read this. It must have everything in here; all his thoughts, all his feelings, all his plans, where he's going-._

He mind flew back to yesterday where Havoc was making to leave, still carrying that easy grin on his face.

_Alright, I won't court-martial you, and I'll let you keep the diary for now. It's not like we're in a rush to find Fullmetal or Flame, are we?_

He opened the diary again, skimming his eyes across a random page, but all he found was a passage on a specific law in explicit, if not metaphorical, detail,

"**February 3****rd****, 1915**_I know, and I can't be any surer, that as we can see the Sun from here, that the point mass of this planet is attracted to the point mass of the Sun with a force that is directly proportional to the product of our masses; just as every point mass in the universe is attracted to every other point mass, but I should hope that ours is greater. _

_For our spherical forms, I want to think that our masses are concentrated at the centre; at our very cores and, with each passing day that we grow closer, the force should increase as would the Earth if attracted by the fire of the Sun in the same way that metal conducts heat. _

_If the Earth's orbit were to be tipped towards the Sun's abode, then the gravitational force would pull us until we come crashing together. Our turning would end, so would the everyday suffer and there would be peace if all were destroyed in our impact. _

_But, I cannot help but fear the consequences of this, the people of Earth would fear the union, they would do everything in their power to cease it, even to go as far as to blow us out of orbit until we sink further into space and towards the cold depths of the Solar system's border where we would freeze. The Earth would be out of sight from the Sun forever, all human life would cease as we know it. _

_So, maybe, it's better that the Earth carries on its orbital spin around the Sun, both co-existing harmoniously, despite the fear of a solar flare lashing out, but otherwise, this is better for the both of us. We have nothing else to fear in this state, for the Sun and its greater power over our existence, knows nothing or has considered the union or what risk it could bring. Why should it when an insignificant thing such as I should come its way. _

_The only thing the Earth has left to fear is the greater closeness of Venus; it should be more likely to crash into the Sun before the Earth can get a light year closer." _

His eyes kept scanning over the page, reading the extract repeatedly.

_Havoc was right; it really does contain science, and if it's meant to mean something else then…_

A faint blush began to form on his cheeks. The door to the office opened. He suddenly shut the diary and slammed it to the desk top. Havoc stared at him in surprise.

"You alright, Warrant Officer?" he asked, somewhat bewildered.

"Err…yeah, well…" Falman began, but he sighed finally, "I've given your offer some thought." He managed.

An eyebrow quirked up on Havoc's face before he nodded with comprehension, "Yeah? So you're going to help decipher the diary?" he asked, smiling.

"Yes, but I don't want any payment. I want to help you out of my own volition, and not because you ordered me to, otherwise I would be no better than the officer who gave the order to put up the wanted posters." His face creased seriously.

A small smile came up on Havoc's lips, "I see, then we'll get started as soon as possible." He started to make his way to his own desk, before turning round to face Falman. "So, what made you change your mind?"

"I want to see Colonel Roy Mustang and Major Edward Elric back in this office in one piece just as much as you do.And I doubt you'd get very far into deciphering the diary without my help." His features started to relax.

"Then I'm glad you can." Havoc grinned.

"But only on the condition that this diary does not fall into anyone else's hand; it's bad enough that we're reading it without getting anyone else involved."

"Alright then," Havoc nodded in agreement, "Well, pull up a chair; we'll get started right now!"

-/\*_;)(-

'This is hopeless!' Neo scowled, flopping down in one of the fur-lined seats. 'The exchange is tomorrow and we don't have a clue what we're doing!'

'Look, I know you're frustrated, but we still have hours left, we'll think of something.' Morpheus sighed, trying to cool down Neo's frustration.

"It would help if we knew her whereabouts in the hotel, otherwise we're stuck." Edward shrugged, stood by Morpheus.

'And that's not our only worry.' Morpheus stroked his chin thoughtfully, 'Envy can also shape-shift, which means he'll assume a disguise.' He groaned finally, 'no matter how you think about it, they still have the advantage over us.'

'Erm…i-isn't Roy supposed to be a Colonel? He'd be good at this sort of thinking thing, right?' Mouse smiled sheepishly from his wheelie chair, his fingers laced in his lap.

"He would, but…" a saddened look overcame Edward's face, and he looked down out of Mouse's gaze, "he's kind of…incapacitated right now." Morpheus gave him a sympathetic look and sighed finally.

'That's it, I can't believe I'm saying this, but it looks like we have no other choice. We'll have to call it quits.'

Everyone stared at him in alarm.

'What?' Neo snapped, grabbing a hold of his collar and shoving Edward out of the way, 'Are you nuts? I thought we weren't going to give up!' he screamed.

'It's alright, we'll go to the hotel at the appointed time, and you can offer me in exchange for Trinity.'

'You _want _them to have the codes? You're a traitor!' he screamed.

'Don't you want Trinity back?' Morpheus countered harshly. 'This is the only point of action I can see us taking right now! If we don't show, then we lose Trinity, and if we make an unprepared effort then we'll _still _lose her. At least this way, we'll have some hope of getting her back.' He frowned.

Edward looked up at Morpheus from his place on the floor, his brows were knitted, "Are you sure this is the only way?" he asked. Morpheus gave him a small smile, and then nodded.

'Yes. There's no other way.' Edward exhaled and got himself up off the floor.

"Ok, then I support your decision." He returned Morpheus's smile, only for Neo to stare at him wildly.

'What? Don't tell me you're _agreeing _with him!'

"What other choice do we have?" Edward sighed. "Besides, I'm sure Morpheus knows what he's doing." He glanced up at Morpheus. "You won't let them get the codes, right?" he smiled hopefully.

'I believe that my mind is stronger than any drug. Don't worry, they won't get the codes to the mainframe, I can promise you that.' He gave a wide smile, and Neo reluctantly let go of his collar, still snarling at him.

'You're lucky I didn't punch you for that.' And he sat back down in his seat.

'Edward, would you like to get Roy some ration?'

Edward looked apprehensive; he turned out of his gaze, nodded and went for the ladder, "Yeah, alright."

-/\*_;)(-

The force barrelled into her face. It knocked her sideways and she fell onto her front. The only support the darkness was offering was the ground to land on. With nothing stopping them, without the ability to see the next force coming, the pain seemed to flare up so much more. But then, why should she fight? What was the point to this anymore?

She felt something tug at her front, and she was dragged into a different position.

"You're responses are getting weaker." The presence seemed to snarl. "It still hurts, right?" a force socked her stomach and she curled up as the wind was knocked out of her, but she didn't let the pain show in her voice. All of her reactions were automatic. "Don't tell me you've already given up. What happened to that spunk from earlier? Hm?"

She felt herself being dragged again. Forces like hammers hit her cheeks, and she spat blood and a hard object, what she supposed was a tooth.

"Although, I'm not surprised, your precious Neo has already given up on you." She could feel the presence's breath on her neck as it hissed in her ear. "It's time to leave him behind, Trinity; why should you suffer for a guy who doesn't even _care?" _

She held her tongue, her brows hardened as she concentrated on its words.

"You shouldn't have to suffer like this any longer. All you would have to do is give your loyalty, and I could take this jacket off you, take off your blindfold and you'd be able to work for us; start your life afresh." The tug on her front was released and she felt gravity pull her onto her side. "Give it some more thought, although, I'm sure you'll give in to our way of thinking." The voice lilted.

She could hear the feet pad away from her.

'And…if I…refused?' her mouth was full of blood and pain, and hard to talk around, as if her cheeks were swollen.

The padding across the floor ceased, "Then the deal would go on as normal tomorrow, although, I doubt you'd like to go back to a ship with that monstrosity carrying on in front of you. You'd have no peace, no happiness and what kind of life would that be? Only something equal to servitude, right?"

She could hear what sounded like something releasing from its jamb and new feet padded across the wooden floor with clear clicks, like shoes.

'Envy,' the cold voice filled the bodily darkness, she knew who it was; so very recognizable, 'you should know that Morpheus and his crew may try and bypass the deal. They're the kind of parasites who would… rescue someone a day early. Get out there and keep an eye out for them. If they have a plan, then I want to know about it.'

"Sounds good to me." The presence chuckled, and the sound of electricity filled the air for brief moments, "I think I've already broken her anyway." The clicking shoes left the room and the jamb clicked shut.

-/\*_;)(-

Havoc leaned back heavily in his chair, keeping his feet on one of the pedestals to give him some support. He crossed his arms behind his head and sighed resignedly.

"I know I said it seemed easy when it came to deciphering these notes, but I didn't think the science would be so _difficult!"_ he scowled, he took his foot off the pedestal and jolted forward into the desk and back again as the chair attempted to right itself.

"Please don't do that." Breda frowned, "you're going to make me smudge."

"Sorry." Havoc muttered. "How far have you got, Falman?" he asked absently.

Falman looked up from his pen, a copied page of the diary in front of him. He gave them both an odd look, "what was that, sorry?" he asked.

"I was going to ask how far you'd got, but it looks like you're working hard." Havoc grinned.

"It's taking a lot of concentration to get a vague idea of what it could mean." Falman chuckled with an apologetic smile.

"It really is difficult." Breda scowled, putting his pen down. "He could have been up to _anything_ for all we know." He rubbed his eyes wearily.

Falman thought for a few moments, cupping his chin between his forefinger and thumb, "Not exactly. We still have the reports he gave us from his missions. If we could correlate the reports up to the extracts in his diary that correspond with that, then we can split off everything else that has nothing to do with the missions. That way we'll have less to work with." Falman suggested, smiling hopefully.

"Alright, we could try that, it's not like we can get anywhere else with it anyway." Havoc smiled enthusiastically. "Go on then, Breda, fetch the reports. Falman and I will carry on here."

Breda scowled as he reluctantly got up from his seat and left the office.

-/\*_;)(-

She watched from her seat on a thrumming metallic vein, her arms crossed tightly to her chest and a leg over a knee. She glared towards the brighter centre from her shadowed edge as he set a flat square board at his side; her violet irises glowered, though her lips perked into a smirk to see her father work.

She felt something pull at her black dress and, turning round, found the owner of the chubby hand that tugged incessantly. He replaced a thick finger in his mouth and looked up at her through his white, rounded, empty eyes.

"What is father doing?" He asked faintly.

She chuckled softly, "Quiet now, Gluttony, you must be patient." And she patted his head.

He stared down at his paper board, his eyes followed along the inked lines, the square formation and the scrawled runes that made up the miniature transmutation circle. By its side and lined up, were a row of pieces.

With a thumb and finger, he selected a piece with a beast-like skull and two horns protruding from it; its body was clothed in a black shabby cloak. He picked it up and placed it at the top northern point of the pentagonal shape, "Edward Elric." He picked up another piece, its skull was more human and sported a single horn and a body wrapped in thin barbed wire; he placed it north-east, "Alphonse Elric was a possibility," and he propped it on its back. He chose another piece from the row; a snake was curled around its body, its head rested on the top of a skull, "Roy Mustang…" He placed it north-west. His last piece had a head like a pumpkin wrapped in cloth and closed around it at the neck; its mouth was sewn shut with obscene black thread. A white scarf was wrapped around its neck and dangled down a black pin-striped body. "…and Van Hohenheim." He propped it by the snake-adorned piece. "And finally…one more person…" he considered this for a few moments, before turning his head slightly in his seat.

_Then soon, the trinity…_

"Lust," his deep voice called strongly towards her, and she stood up in obedience. "We are missing one more human sacrifice. Take Gluttony with you, and search for the last candidate."

She grinned smoothly, "Yes, Father." She stepped further into the darkness at the edge, with Gluttony following close behind her.

_He is still searching for the missing sacrifices. Don't mess up my plans, Envy. _

-/\*_;)(-

The folders were spread out before them, open, their papers pulled out and laid on top. Scraps of paper were scattered, littered with notes and copied pieces of the diary itself, and underlined parts, important, at least to the extent that they had uncovered.

Breda folded his arms across the table and rested on them, yawning as papers were creased under his weight.

"Hey, watch it Breda." Havoc frowned; let Breda raise his arms momentarily before saving them from being crushed.

"Calm down you two," Falman sighed, "we're on to the last report for last year; we're almost done." Searching through the piles of reports, he picked one up, flicked through its pages and nodded finally after his eyes had skimmed through the information.

"This report dates back to the 7th of October, 1914, from their mission to Cameron in the Eastern area; they were there following a lead on the elixir of life because of its links with the Philosopher's stone. But, they returned after a few days, turned out the elixir was just a fountain of mineral water. Turns out they were following rumours that the fountain was so refreshing, it was like they had been drinking the elixir of life."

"Some goose chase that must've been." Havoc smiled weakly.

"Yeah, the amount of curse words that are in here is phenomenal. I'm surprised I can get any information from it. Most of it is just a long rant at the Colonel, something like, 'My effing pay is not so effing low that I effing have to effing travel to a god for effing saken dust ball just to take an effing sip from a hitty glorified tap that tastes like iss and sweat, or to effing drown in it. "

"Thanks for the censorship." Breda frowned.

"To be honest, I'd rather not have to repeat the words 'unt' or 'hit for brains'."

"He knows 'unt?'" Havoc stared at Falman incredulously.

"Apparently." He shrugged, dropping the report to the table.

"Is that all then?" Breda sighed, "Are we finally done?"

"You're not tired already, are you?" Havoc grinned.

"Of course I am. I'm not used to working overtime." He let out a yawn, scratched his head drearily.

"You do look tired," Falman smiled a little, "You can go home now if you want."

Breda perked up from his seat, "Are you sure? Don't you want some help cleaning this up?" He pointed to the scattered sheets.

"Actually, that would-." But Falman cut him off.

"No, we're fine here. You go on ahead." Falman smiled, Havoc looked at him oddly.

"Well, alright then." He got up from his seat and, pulling on his trench coat, he shut the door behind him. His footsteps echoed down the corridor as he left.

Falman breathed a sigh, and got up from his seat and stretched wearily. Havoc leaned over the table then, and started collecting the sheets up. He watched him work; the thought crossed his mind, the back of his neck started to heat.

"Havoc?" Falman began; the man glanced up at him as he rearranged some sheets and stacked them together. "Are you tired at all?"

"Not really," he smiled back, "why do you ask?"

"Well, I know we got a lot done today, but I don't think we've done enough yet." he admitted. As Havoc stretched over the table for some sheets, Falman reached them first and passed them on.

"I know what you mean," he gathered the sheets into another stack, "now that we've sorted through most of it, we know what parts of the diary to look at, and it would be a shame to stop now while we're on a roll." Falman nodded in agreement.

"Would you…like to continue this at my apartment then? I mean that and…there's something about the diary…" his cheeks began to redden, "that I would like to bring up with you."

"Really?" Havoc looked at him oddly, "Then shall I ask Breda-."

"No," he said firmly, then, with an apprehensive look, "I mean you saw how he was just now; he's tired. Better to let him rest instead of dragging him out again." He recovered, and let a smooth smile grace his lips, "Besides, it's not something that we can safely discuss here."

"Woops," Havoc grinned, "This is sounding a little top secret."

"It is, so once we've discussed it, I'd rather it wasn't brought up here again." He pulled on his trench coat. Havoc nodded, and picking up a sorted stack, placed it in Falman's arms.

"We'll have to be careful not to lose these while we're outside." Havoc smiled, and placing the diary on top of his own stack, nodded to the door before them, "lead the way."

-/\*_;)(-

The darkness weighed in on him, heavy, pitch black, only equalled by the numbing sensation that gripped his nerves. He seemed to float, careless, dreamy, as if he was sleeping on a rain cloud; his tears could burst forth from it at any minute, but when it did, what would hecare? He wouldn't be able to feel his body meet the ground below with a heavy thud, or the razor-sharp tears batter his body as if they were falling on leather drums.

But time would tell on that; he could feel the drug beginning to recede. The clamps were starting to loosen; he could feel himself sinking lower, and lower, until his back met the floor. But that pain was absent now, even his gut felt free of its agony. Slowly, he opened his eyes to greet the world that granted him his sober, human senses. It seemed identical to the drug-haggard world he had just endured.

He blinked slowly, hoping to reclaim the hours he had lost at the peak of his high. The darkness clouded his vision still. It closed in further; he could feel the pressure build as they tightened around his body. The pressure grew stronger, building then on his head. Slowly, slowly, harder and harder until a towering pain ascended in intensity; nestling itself deep in his brain. He gripped it, wincing, gritting his teeth, his eyes tearing up, as if a hangover had taken hold.

_Fu-! Where am I? _

Suddenly, a gurgling sound rose slowly from his side. His eyes widened. His breathing deepened, quick, sweat clung to his brow. He turned his head slowly towards the gurgling noise. It grew in pitch, high, harsh, like all the air was being pushed out from its lungs all at once. The pain in his head was growing worse, and yet, he had to admit through his anguish, he knew that sound. So familiar, its supposed name rose to the tip of his tongue.

"D-Daniel?"

Its cries began to die on its lips, and it gave a gurgled laugh at the mention of its chosen name. He heard, then, the soft patter of hands slapping the floor, growing closer and closer, until he could hear them, almost deafening now by the side of his head. The darkness above him grew brighter as the pale skin of the baby illuminated his face, like a soft beacon. He hadn't seen the child in so long, it felt too tempting to mistake him for someone else's, but there was no mistaking those coffee-orbs and that open-mouthed grin of his. It seemed like something had possessed him, taken over his very soul and filled his arms to the brim with an outer obedience. His hands clasped the baby's side and, with as much placidity as he could muster, he lifted the child and held him to his chest, hugging him close, nuzzling his cheek into his head.

"It can't be- it's really you, isn't it?" tears rolled down his cheeks, drenching them as a familiar pain twisted in his gut.

The child giggled softly, and he felt a wet spot of drool hit his shirt.

_Yes. _

-/\*_;)(-

He felt something tug at his sleeve, pulling, and letting out whimpering noises that he could only guess were frustration. He could feel an inner tug too, something that begged for him to heed its call. He looked around, trying to identify the caller in the blackest darkness. As he found the direction of the caller, it took some time before he realised his eyes were still shut.

A child sat cross-legged at his side, his hair was a thick black mop, his eyes were big and bright, unmistakably brown; he shook uncontrollably, folding his arms to his chest and tucking his head to it when a light breeze hit his skin. By the size of the child, he wagered that it was around 4, maybe 5 years old.

"D-D-Daddy?" he stuttered, "I-I'm c-cold." He shivered then.

In his mind, he tried to place a mental picture of the baby he knew beside the child sat before him, hoping to find a recognizable comparison between the two. The likenesses were there, the eyes were the shade of brown he knew and he knew it was the same child as the baby he loved. It was then that he realised how naked the child was.

He sat up and, outstretching his arms, let the child clamber into them.

"How did you get here?" He asked softly, and the child peered up at him from his chest.

"I-I don't know." The child gave a little smile, "I've been here a long time."

Suddenly, the child doubled-over, grasping his knee as tears and pain-filled wails filled the air. He felt a hard tug then.

"Are you alright?" He asked, alarmed. "What happened?"

"I-I-I…" he sniffled hoarsely. He wiped the tears with one hand while persisting to hold his leg with the other; his breaths were a rapid flux of sporadic hiccups.

His eyes followed the hand that grasped his leg, and he found red along it.

"Your knee; let me see it." He asked calmly. The child, reluctant, sat back in his lap and bent up his knee for display. He supported the back of the child's knee, and inspected it as much as the light from the child's skin would allow. "It looks like you scraped your knee."

He smiled a little to himself as the words came out; he thought he'd never hear himself say them. A thought crossed his mind then and he began to wonder if the child was following a different timeline. A history that maybe he would've enjoyed with the child himself had destiny not snatched him away. But he did not have the luxury of fatherly experience; he must've slept through all of that. What would the father of this child say in this kind of situation? Something like, 'it'll fix up in no time?' No, kids pick up on lies pretty quickly, or at least, he did. As he puzzled over a suitable response, the child's words broke his train of thought.

"H-H-Have you got a…sticky…thing?" The child asked, his voice lingering on a whimper.

"You mean a plaster?" The boy nodded woefully in response. "No, sorry," He answered, but something else happened then, almost like an instinct. He pulled off his black trench coat, unbuttoned his blue jacket, and untucked his white shirt. He grabbed the edge of it, and tugged from the button-holed side. He pulled off a long, thick white strip from along the bottom of his shirt, until it was now inches shorter.

"Here, straighten your leg." He ordered softly, and the child complied through his tears. He pressed the strip on the wound and began to wrap it around the boy's knee, making sure there was an end free from the wrapping process. The boys winced a little from the pressure and sting, but he let him carry on. As two ends were left, he tied them both together, and the bandage was secure.

The boy began to dry his tears and he looked up in awe of the man.

"I wish I could do more, but it'll do for now." He smiled hopefully. Suddenly, the child hugged tightly at his neck.

"Thank you." The voice seemed to smile, and his gut seemed to twist up.

"That's alright," he hugged him back.

Still locked in the embrace, he looked around him and saw nothing but darkness, but at least, he could feel comfort in an eternal spotlight that was the child strapped to his neck. His eyes narrowed with certainty.

"Do you think you can stand on your own?" he felt the boy's cheek hit his neck in a shake. "Hang on then." Supporting under the boy's rump, he held the boy to his side and worked himself onto his knees, and then to his feet. In a quick bend and swipe, he picked up the trench coat. The child still shook from the cold. "Put your arm out." And the child obeyed, stretching out his left arm. He fed a sleeve of the large trench coat on, and chuckled softly as the boy battle with the heavy material so that his hand could cling to his daddy's shirt. He fed the other sleeve on and tucked the tail of the coat under the boy's rump.

The boy seemed to be buried in the black heap of material, but at least, he had stopped shaking.

"Is that better?"

The boy nodded happily.

"Good, I'm glad." He smiled warmly, "Now we need to figure a way out of here." He said it more to himself then he did to the child in his arms. "Which way did you come from?" he asked.

"I don't know." The boy answered.

He frowned, not exactly a helpful response. "Alright, then we'll just go straight ahead; maybe there's someone else in here that can show us the way."

He began at a slow pace, heading further into the darkness. The child clung to him still, but it wasn't long before he heard the deep, slow breaths of sleep against his chest.

-/\*_;)(-

The sleeping child snored gently against his neck, the soft rasp hugged tightly at his ears. He sighed gently and hugged him closer. The cloak of darkness was still ever present with no signs of letting up. He frowned then; he was glad for the illuminating light of the child, but the darkness looked no different, and there were no shapes that he could make out from beneath the shroud. The only changes he'd known thus far was the change in the boy's weight; a possible show of evidence that the boy was aging in his history.

He was there by the child's side as he rearranged his arms to support the weight, but still he was detached from the development. Just as he was detached from everything else; from everything he knew.

He was with the one child he had always wanted to know, but not with anything else. How could he break free? How could he escape? Would the child be there? No, he wouldn't. It all fell down to a choice now. A child and darkness or childless with life. But then, he'd never had a choice. Something or someone was going to choose it for him. He was at mercy to that entity. He wanted to know the ending, but somehow, he dreaded it all just as much.

He hugged the child tighter for comfort.

He gasped suddenly, stopped in his tracks. A loud sound broke through the darkness, echoing against him.

_If you don't eat this, then I'm just going to have to feed it to you myself._

Who is that…?

_Spoon feed it to you like a baby,_

Wait, how is that…?

_Or a dribbling old man if you'd prefer._

The child in his arms began to stir; his voice echoed his faint show of annoyance at the disturbance. He tried to rock him slowly back to sleep.

_The quicker you get fed, the quicker I'll be able to change your diaper, baby. No, old men have them too, don't they?_

The tone was familiar, as if he was trying to recall a voice he hadn't heard in decades.

_I'm just asking, because as far as old men go, you must know from experience, right?_

Definitely familiar; it carried that similar childish grate he knew.

_Come on, you've got to be hungry by now, right? Or are you fed up with this stuff already, because I know I would be. _

He was sure he knew, it was so close now, on the tip of his tongue even.

_You could think of it as oatmeal. If you eat some, it'll put some hairs on your chest, or in your case, some black on your head._

He brushed his hand through his hair. His eyes widened with realisation. Edward. He was speaking to him, but how…? The child stirred in his arms again, and blinked sleepily up into his eyes.

"Dad?" he asked softly, and he rubbed his eyes wearily.

"It's nothing. Come on." Realising he'd stopped; he carried on further into the darkness. 

_ Well, you've left me with no other choice. _

A racket went up throughout the realm. His ears rung with static, the floor seemed to shake. He clutched the child closer as the boy cried out in fear.

_Mayday! Mayday! We're heading for a wall! Target's more shut than a virgin's legs! Get ready to crash! Shit! The escape button! It's jammed!_

"What's going on?" the child cried in horror. "Are we under attack?"

He dropped low quickly. He kept the child tightly within the confines of his body, using his back as a shield.

_Aaah!_

He kept his eyes solely focused on the boy's coffee orbs as a sudden thump made the earth jump beneath them. Tears rolled down the child's cheeks as he cried out.

"Look at me! You'll be fine!" he tried to encourage, waiting hopefully the shaking to end.

The shakes began to simmer down. He cautiously loosened his guard.

The earth grew still. The darkness remained the same as before. Peace, it seemed, had prevailed all at once. He breathed a sigh of relief and gave the child a warm smile.

"Are you alright? Daniel?" the child nodded, and he slowly slid from beneath his protector's arms. Keeping the trench coat firmly around him, he got to his feet.

He didn't get to his feet so readily, but got up on his knees instead.

_Come in command, this is The Spooner 2, ready for my mission!_

The earth shook again. The child quivered on the spot, crying out for help.

He pounced for him and grabbed a hold of his ankle. The child fell and he gasped as the body lumbered over him again.

_Your mission is to dock in the mouth of the Flame. It is a simple, yet treacherous mission, and I want zero mistakes! You hear me?_

The earth shook violently then. Sweat clung at his brow. What should he do? He didn't know. His heart beat loudly in his chest; he hoped the child wouldn't hear.

_Sir, yes sir! You ready Flame you old bastard? _

He felt as though his energy was being absorbed from his body. His knees shook and gave in.

_Get ready for a dose of my kamikaze! Destination, your mouth! _

He seemed to collapse flatly against the child, putting all his weight on top of him. The child screamed, pushing against his chest.

_That other pilot Jeff was useless, but he was up against a big old brute! I can sympathise! But you won't win against me!_

"OW! Dad? What are you doing? Get off!" the child's knees assaulted his gut, but he took the blows, grunting against them.

_I'm a whole other spoon of glop, mister! You won't stand a chance! I'm ready for take-off! _

Cracks in the earth were beginning to form, he could feel them splinter, and the cracks were growing closer.

_I won't give in! I'll explode if I have to!_

Great crashes thrummed through the earth as it began to part. He regained his senses and alarm bells rung inside him. The land tilted beneath them, sending them up at an angle and his weight off the child. He clung quickly for an edge, but the child started to slide from beneath him.

"No!" He screamed, and he grabbed the child's wrist.

_Shit! I've changed my mind!_

He tried with all his might to pull the child up. The earth had disappeared down the newly formed canyon beneath them and the child struggled for a hold, screaming. He drew the child closer to his plateau, but the hand that was holding him there began to shake. He clenched his teeth with effort.

"I won't let you fall! Just hang on!"

The child nodded, he held his eyes with great intensity; a strong belief that seemed unshakable.

He gave one last yank, and the child flew up. He grabbed him around the waist and shoved him aboard the plateau.

_I don't want to die!_

"Grab on! Don't let go! This'll all be over soon!"

The child twisted his head to him, and smiled as if he hoped so. His fingers began to loosen. They slipped from the edge. Suddenly, gravity had claimed a victim and he slid from the plateau. His hands scrabbled for a hold; he found it and his front slammed into the jagged wall of the plateau as he swung into it. The force winded him and he could do nothing but let go. He fell into the chasm; the light at the top loomed away miserably. A great weightlessness overtook him, as if his gut would fly clean from his throat.

_Aaah!_

The darkness claimed the hopeless soldier, he screwed his eyes shut, waiting for the earth to catch him.

_If you wanted me to leave, you should've just fucking told me! _

The words brought light to his eyes, as if he was opening them for the first time; his ears rung from the heavy thuds at one side of him. His eyes were a blur; there was no clarity that he could make out, just the soft pastel flushes of a metal something before him. As his eyes began to narrow, a corner began to transpire.

_Where am…have I been…? _

His peripheral vision caught the sight of a bowl and spoon and he blinked as though they were a set of alien equipment. His eye widened then, the words came flooding back. Just as well, the high pitched screams that echoed over the rolls of thunder. Not the voice that summoned the destruction, but the one he was trying to protect from it.

He hugged the bowl close to him then, as if it were the child still needing into his chest, looking for security and warmth; his father's protection.

He could feel his cheeks grow hot with imminent tears and his brow knitted upwards from the strain. He whimpered softly to the mute air.

_Daniel_

Author's note: I want to thank you all for your patience while I got through the exam period and could finish writing chapter 18; that was the main reason I didn't update as soon as I would've normally. I think if I hadn't had the problem of writing it and I was chapters ahead, like say on chapter 20, then it wouldn't have mattered and I would've updated as normal. Thank you anyway though. Although saying that, I probably wouldn't have got as much revision done as I have and probably never would've done as good at my exam as I think I have. Ah, the prices we pay.

I had a lot of queries about what I should name this chapter and I had a lot of suggestions too; names such as Affirmation, All We Know, Guarded, Consequence Free, Falling Away etc. but I have finally come to settle on the song by Paramore, Turn it off from the album Brand New Eyes. These lyrics seem to suit Roy's situation quite well, "seems like it's getting harder to believe in anything, than just to get lost in all my selfish thoughts", and there are others like, "I wanna know what it'd be like, to find perfection in my pride, to see nothing in the light, but turn it off in all my spite, in all my spite I'll turn it off" here of course it refers to him being in the darkness, and turning himself off from everything around him, which is him being in the vegetative state in the Real world. The lyrics right at the beginning, "I scraped my knees while I was praying, and found a demon in my, safest haven" which is a reference to both Daniel and what's coming later really. The chorus though, really fits, "And the worst part is, before it gets any better we're heading for a cliff, then in the free fall I will realize, I'm better off when I hit the bottom" which would be the last part of the chapter. These lyrics, "It's all wrong the way we're working, towards a goal that's non-existent, it's non-existent but we just keep believing" maybe because Roy doesn't believe in the Real world or the goals of the Nebuchadnezzar. As I listen to it, I always find that the lyrics have some relevance one way or another, so I guess it's easier just saying that then quoting all of the lyrics. These ones just struck me as right, really.

I know I keep changing the names of my chapters, but sometimes, I don't listen to all of the songs that I have on my mp3 player and so I don't have as many songs to choose from in the terms of naming. Some songs are more relevant than others, and some sound better than others in terms of atmosphere and such, so I wouldn't be surprised if I start changing the chapter names if I were you. I'm always somehow indecisive when it comes to something like this, so I think it would be best if you all just came to accept it as an inevitable thing now.

Whenever I've listened to it in the past though, I've always thought of it in a song fiction state of mind, like, with Edward in a mining cart in a desert land and Alphonse helmet on his head. The mining would be pushed along by a platform and crank at the back, with Roy, Breda and Havoc playing the song while Falman and Fuery are cranking it along. But, in the middle of the craziness, Edward would pull out the pin that connected the two and would end up speeding off the edge of a cliff, saving the band members but not him. That's just the sort of idea I always had about this song because it had that certain raciness about it.

Ok, you're going to have to get used to this, but I have found a better chapter title for this one. Falling Inside The Black, named after the song of the same name by Skillet; it's funny because even though the lyrics fit the chapter a lot more, this song has come from a band that is initially Christian. I guess this coincides with the Christian imagery that we see in the chapters for the most part, especially when it comes to the One. I guess the reason why I find it easy to do this and with enough knowledge of it is because I'm a Christian myself. It makes it easier to cite the correct bible references in here because for the most part I've seen them before at some time or another. But, don't let this put you off the story, I guess you could take this as me saying that the story's in good hands.

Now, for the lyrics, why did I choose this song? Well, this chorus first off, "falling in the black, slipping through the cracks, falling to the depths, can I ever go back?" Obviously this is literal with his falling through the ground beneath him. There are other lyrics that make a lot of sense, "Don't leave me here like this, can't hear me scream from the abyss. And now I wish for my desire, don't leave me alone 'cause I barely see at all. Don't leave me alone." These lyrics can also be in reference to the next chapter, but I'll leave you to see why. Now, these lyrics here can be seen in reference to the boy, "Dreaming of the way it used to be, can you hear me?" I suppose you can see more lyrics making sense if you actually listen to the song; it's funny that, that the music brings more things to light that the lyrics on their own. It's a funny kind of power that music has over us, don't you think?

This one was an absolute bitch to write and an absolute bitch to name! It's taken me weeks to write because of school coursework and, of course, there was trouble with the imagination that had to go into Roy's mental realm. The original plan was for something to happen without having to look into Roy's mind, but I think it will give greater insight into the character if we do things like this. I had also planned with it being longer, but I actually got to the point where I was fed up with carrying on in this tiring fashion. At least this way, it will give me some sort of boost because I've stopped it at a place where it can be soundly split and it's a finished chapter in its own right. I will be able to continue writing chapter 18 without much fuss.

I don't know if you guys caught onto this, but in Roy's realm (love the sound of that, sounds a lot better than dream scape!) what is happening in here is actually happening during some of the events of chapter 16, as you could probably tell from the voice that rumbles the realm (alliteration!). I hadn't originally planned how this would link to chapter 15 the way it did, but I'm quite pleased with how it turned out, I guess I was lucky there. Anyway, I know I said that each chapter would be a day, but I've decided "screw that!" so now chapter 17 is a mix of day 1 and 2, and chapter 18 will be a mix similar to that as well but with more day 2. That's what I'm thinking it will be like anyway. It will be day 3 when I bloody say it is, so you can all put up with it.

Chapter 18 will be put up on the 2nd July. This may seem like ages away, but I want to make sure I have enough time to write each chapter for them to be put up, that's all. I like to stay chapters ahead. And, with this being 18th June, that's only 2 weeks away, this is really the typical waiting period.

Thank you for your patience once again,

Ophelia Davis

Oh, just so you guys know, I have a deviant art and twitter account. On deviant art, I'm called daisukebebop (the same as my old author name) and you can follow me on twitter if you search for davis_fox. My avatar will be a picture of Edward in a Pikachu costume, just like my avatar on here. Hopefully that helps you out.

And finally, Chapter 18 should be out for the 2nd July on a Saturday. I should be some way through chapter 20 by then. Quite an exciting chapter as well.

/tmp/uploads/FF_1442475_ 15of15 at 05:55:15 on21/06/2012 Heather


	18. Nightmare

"_For a man to conquer himself is the first and noblest of all victories."_ - Plato

The darkness surrounded him. It grew with intensity, the pressure built up around him, becoming barriers that closed in like a hidden enemy. He tried to push it away, he tried to scream for help, but his yelps caught in his throat until only gasping, choked breaths prevailed. It pushed against his chest, crushed against him; his arms and legs were frozen in place, his face was held against the barrier in a way that he couldn't even turn his head. Just to breathe was a constant effort and struggle to keep his life.

He could feel it; the pressure was starting to seep in; a thick penetrating enemy that invaded his ears. He tried to struggle, but the barriers held him in place. It sloshed into his brain, pouring, filling it to the brim and finally tightening around grey matter. His eyes grew wide; his body shook rigidly beneath their bondage, it was in him now, right at the core of his being. He could feel it, hear it, their desperate cries and pleas for deliverance were more than he could bear.

built up he tried to scream for help, but his yelps caught in his throat and only gasping, choked breaths prevailed. they Suddenly, sharp incisions dug into his brain; the pressure began to fade, the weight sank and dragged its intensity with it. The darkness no longer held that bodily threat and it seeped away, turning from the deepest black, to a stony grey, to a neutral hue, until all colour had been eradicated. Softly then, slowly, the white too lost its bodily intensity and needles of colour began to puncture its deep surface. Those needles ruptured his vision until all he could see was a fizzed out, mosaicked shade of blue, floating in a foaming sea of white along with a black and pale shape that penetrated his vision. He narrowed his eyes then, almost on instinct, hoping to bring the shape into a plain clarity that many men often took for granted.

The pale shape began to take a clearer form, it began to split into five parts, the fuzz of the edges sharpened and spread inwards to the point where he could make out his bone-white knuckles. The black shape that ended at his wrist became known in his mind as his trench coat sleeve, and the shade of blue his uniform clad leg, propped up for his arm to rest on. The foam had settled into something intense and definite; he was sat in a white void, bright and brilliant. His gut twisted with a familiar ache, signifying that he existed here, that he was a feeling body and not just a viewer behind frosted glass with his nose pushed up against it.

He tore his eyes away from the clearer shapes, just to be sure that the angles could change and he looked out upon the white expanse, completely without shadows.

_Am I in that Construct place or…?_

He slowly got to his feet and glanced about the void before him. There seemed to be no end, no horizon; just like the darkness, but with clear signs of a hopeless endeavour ahead. The light then, a natural beacon of hope, had become an enemy in its own right; at least with the uncertainty that the darkness brought, there was room to have confidence that there was some form of escape somewhere straight ahead; but now, nothing.

_Where do I…? Shit, there must be some way of getting out of here! There has to be!_

His gut twisted. He clutched it quickly. Something deep inside resonated within him; a sense of dread that made him shudder, a cold sweat collected at his brow. He turned suddenly. He seemed to shrink before it. Deep insignias were etched into its unearthly form, with shuddering steps, he backed away from it. His knees buckled underneath him and he fell on his butt, and still he tried to shuffle away. Tears collected in the corners of his eyes, his mouth hung open.

_No…! Please…! No…!_

He screwed his eyes shut. His world dove into darkness again. He tried to sink deep within himself, trying to find the solace he needed. He struggled for something, to hold onto something solid, he searched for something, bright, memorable. Golden orbs opened up to him, large, young, and smiling. He reached out for them, his lips perked at the edges. He felt it then, hands, tiny hands, grasping at his ankles and pulling him down, or themselves up; he couldn't be sure, their cries rung out from beneath him.

_Brother! Where are you? I'm lost…mommy! Please! It hurts…it hurts so much! What do I do? No…! What is this place? Not again…! Help me! What did I do? What you've done to me… Why here? Torturous… Like I've been run over by a train… It's inhumane…if that's all it really amounts too… that glass…! Who sent the signal? Glowing! Tormenting! But I can't…pull myself free…this force…how can I?_

_ They must be witnesses…killed by the Agents…!_

_ DADDY! DA-AD! WHERE ARE YOU?_

He gasped audibly. That voice shrieked from among the others, it pulled him from the depths; the light engulfed his eyes, blinding.

_DAD! ARE YOU OK? ANSWER ME! DA-AD!_

It flooded his ears, as if calling from behind. He whizzed around; another gate. He wanted to melt into the floor of the void, but the voice seemed to tug at him from within, calling him desperately, pleading. He turned to face it.

_Daniel…!_

The doors creaked open before him. The blackness inside peeled itself open; that purple iris stared back at him. Black tape-like tentacles uncoiled themselves free of their prison and immediatelywrapped around his limbs.

But he didn't struggle.

He held his arms open to it, let himself be pulled in, let him be dragged through. He shut his eyes to the ribbons of truth that faced him, he refused to absorb it; if this is what it took then he would face it head on.

_Hold on… just wait a little longer…_

-/\*_;)(-

His eyes flew open. He gasped for air and found himself staring into a pair of coffee orbs, large and gleaming with mirth. His chest heaved from the new weight, thin arms clung themselves around his neck and a laugh full of relief and triumph poured into his ears. He folded his arms around the deadweight on his chest; his fingers threaded themselves through a mop of black hair and nestled him close. The boy's breath danced on his neck, his cheek nuzzled the boy's hair, taking in his scent, a smell that confirmed without hesitation that he was his.

"You came back." The chest on top of his let out sporadic jerks and the boy's breathing became an uneven jig, "I-I thought…I was going to be…a-alone again…" Dampness began to settle and taper down his neck, he clutched him closer then, rocking him in soothing motions.

"I couldn't leave you behind." His voice lulled softly into the boy's ear. "I heard you calling, and I knew you needed me."

The boy let out a soft whimper and hugged his neck tighter.

"We're going to get out here together, and we're going to find mom, and we're going to be a family again. I won't ever leave you behind again; we'll get out of here, no matter what." He kissed the boy's temple softly, smiling sadly into his hair.

"You promise?" the boy whimpered.

His gut twisted, but his smile grew wider.

"Yes."

The flutter of the boy's chest seemed to settle and no new wetness prevailed. His breathing returned to its soft and relaxed state and his clinging arms loosened their grip. Supporting the boy's rump, he began to sit up and the boy faced him then, his eyes and cheeks were stained red, and a clean wet trail was clear down the boy's cheeks where tears had been. A breeze blew across his skin and the boy shivered coldly.

"You're still cold, right?" he asked and, with the boy's affirming nod, he shrugged off his trench coat and drew it around the boy's shoulders. The boy clutched it tightly around his naked body, and his cheeks turned pink, this time with appreciation. "How's your knee?" His eyes fell to the joint; he fingered the bandages, hugging tighter now at the knee.

"I-It doesn't hurt anymore."

"Shall we take it off?" He smiled up at him, and, after a moment's thought, nodded with uncertainty. "Now, hold still." He undid the knot carefully and began to loosen the bandages from the boy's knee. As the folds were unravelled, the end of the strip fell from its placement, red and stained from a clean and unscathed knee. A smile brightened on his lips and the boy grinned widely. "There! Good as new!" he chuckled, almost in disbelief.

"Thank you!" the boy hugged him tightly, laughing.

"That's alright. Come on, finding a way out of here should be no problem now." He let the boy climb off his lap and he got to his feet. The boy gripped his hand and dragged him forward.

"Come on! Let's march!" the boy grinned.

"Well, if you say so." he chuckled.

The boy, complete with a skippy goose step, began to sing loudly, "_Left_! _Left_! I did a good job but I _left_ it in my trou-ousers!" He laughed then, it echoed through the darkness; it was infectious.

"I've got one!" He began through tears of mirth, and he reorganised his feet to step in time. "_Left_! _Right_! _Left_! _Right!_ Pull your britches _up_ tight!" they both burst into laughter, and they were stopped in their tracks as they gripped their sides from the mirth.

_Roy._

The low voice echoed throughout the realm. Their laughter stilled, they froze where they stood. Their forms straightened and they stared upwards towards what they thought to be a black sky, though the darkness didn't make it obvious.

_Take the bowl and eat. _

The boy clutched his leg and hid behind it.

_You need to keep your strength up, especially while you're recovering like this. _

His eyes widened from the disturbance, his body went rigid, half expecting the ground to shake beneath them again. A low sigh escaped in the breath of the vocal intruder.

_So you're ignoring me?_

His body remained tense, waiting on some physical rebuke.

_And Edward? You're ignoring him too?_

A hushed whisper sounded behind him, shaking in fear, "W-what's happening daddy?" He held out a finger to silence him.

_After all that he's done for you? _

The disturbance that tugged his eyes wide seemed to release them, and his face settled into a deep frown.

_I know you can hear me, Roy, so I want you to listen well.__ If not for Edward, you would not be here. _

His eyes narrowed and the hands at his leg clutched tighter still.

_He's done everything he can, to keep you safe, to keep you well, and to keep you alive. _

The hands tugged at his leg, and he rested his hand on his head to keep him calm. A cold shiver ran down his spine; he made ready to run, his feet disobeyed all orders.

_Because, whether you like it or not, he loves you. _

His breath caught in his throat; a breeze caught him from behind, coasting warmly against his skin. The heat rose up through him, and settled at his cheeks.

_And in return for his efforts, you shun him, and you even beat him. He doesn't ask for you to reciprocate, just that you accept his help. _

He closed his eyes to the warmth; the breeze blew suddenly up his front, forcing his chin up. He opened them again and found himself staring up towards the darkness.

_The animosity you feel must end, and so must your obsession with the dead. _

He glanced aside, as if the voice's eyes were piercing his.

_You may not have existed in your matrix, but that shouldn't matter anymore. _

He averted his gaze to face the darkness above.

_Here __is where you exist, this is what matters; it's real, it exists, this is where you belong now. _

The voice seemed to coax him into floating towards the darkness, and he almost felt like he could, but his eyes dropped down; he glanced in the boy's direction, a weight settled in his gut.

_That is why you need to come back to us. You need to get better, and you need to get stronger. _

The air turned colder around him, his gaze settled on his feet. The voice let out a rough sigh.

An ache suddenly thrummed through his body. He gripped his gut tight. It coursed from his gut outward like a sharp stab. "_What is this…?" _

His knees buckled from underneath him, and he collapsed to the floor, coughing and hacking and clutching his mouth. Something wet then drenched his hand, and he pulled it away. It carried a metallic stench that he found familiar and could confirm from the aftertaste in his mouth. He tried to get up, but the pain arrested him, and he fell down onto his side.

"Dad! What's wrong?" The boy called frantically, arrested him by the side and shook. "Dad?"

He could feel his vision blur at the edges, his mind strove for an answer. "_Damn…it must've been when I fell!" _

He could feel the blood pushing up from his gut. He hacked it up onto the floor.

_What exactly are you trying to prove?_

His eyes widened amidst the pain, the voice had a torturous hold on him, as if its melody was squeezing his gut tight and holding it there.

_Are you suffering here, is that it? Is it so bad that you feel the need to die?_

He clenched his teeth, growling at his challenger. "_What a stupid question." _The voice seemed to snarl back in response.

_And you called Edward a coward. At least he can face up to responsibility. You, on the other hand, don't know the meaning of the word. _

Another stab shot through and he clutched his gut. More blood came loose.

_There's no sense in choosing death._

He howled as he hacked up more blood, tears stained his eyes and rolled down his cheeks. The child gripped his side, tighter now, his sobs shook his body.

_You wouldn't be considered a martyr; how can you be when you don't believe in anything?_

His eyes narrowed, he tried to bite back the pain.

"That's not true." He growled throatily.

_…What was that?_

He threw his head back and screamed, "THAT'S NOT TRUE!" it wretched at his throat.

_That's right, you do believe in something. _

The effort to be heard was more trouble than it was worth; he coughed and groaned as his mouth was drenched. With each loss of blood, his energy melted away.

_And what would they think if they saw you like this? _

More tears welled up in his eyes; a soft whimper escaped his throat. Her face stared down at him in a glare of disappointment, she expected more than this; disgusted. He clenched his hands into fists, his whole body shook.

_Giving up on everything just because it's not fair?_

He drew his fist, and beat it against the floor. His gut twisted up, the pain gripped him, and he curled up pathetically.

_You're just being childish, and I know you're better than that. _

He clutched his hands to his ears and screwed his eyes shut. But the sound still seemed to penetrate through, clearer than before.

_If you at least ate something, then you'd get stronger. But, you won't and it's sad, because your body is not in a condition where it can allow you to do that. Right now, even three meals a day won't do you any good. _

_ "_Shut up_." _He whimpered.

_It's a shame, because with your military experience, you'd be a great asset to this ship, despite your inability to use alchemy. _

His gut twisted tighter. Even to breathe was agony.

_At least think about what I've said, if not for our sake, then for Riza's. _

The silence breached the realm once more, his tears rolled down over the bridge of his nose, trickling into the pool beneath and diluting with the blood. He couldn't get up, there was no strength left in him. The small hands shook him again; he shut his eyes, hoping the disturbance would give up.

"Dad? Get up. Please?"

He screwed his eyes up tight, something tugged at his chest, but he couldn't, just couldn't.

"You promised, you said we'd find mom a-and get out of here, dad?" he shook harder, his tiny fingers dug into his skin. "Come on, get up! You said! You promised! The big voice has gone now! We can carry on marching!"

"Stop it." he growled. The hands released him and the boy froze in fear. "It's time you learned," he gritted out the words through his agony, "dads can't do e-everything." The stabbing pain surged through him again; it became unbearable to even move. "I-I can't…go on."

"Go on? You can!" the boy mustered up a smile and started to tug at his collar. He managed to drag him an inch before he gave up the weight. "S-see? You moved! If you can do that, you can get up, right?"

"I'm…s-sorry." He groaned, "there's nothing more…I can do."

His smile fell.

"You'll have to…find her…on your own."

His body shook, tears dripped down his cheeks. "But you're a soldier. Aren't you supposed to be big and tough?"

"Even soldiers…must fall some time." He choked out. Pain wrenched at his gut as he tried to suppress it. But the pain struck sharper, digging in with its claws. He couldn't hold back his scream, half-strangled by the blood.

"No! You can't give up! Please!" the boy tried to encourage, he took a hold of his arm and wrapped it around his shoulder as he tried to offer his support.

He was forced to support his own weight with the free hand, but he struggled to keep himself on his knees.

The boy's knees threatened to buckle, but he held strong and forced his father to move.

"I won't let you fall! You're not just a soldier, you know! You're my dad too!"

His body felt so drained, empty of everything, and yet, he was still moving. His knees continued on at a shuddering pace, his hand touched the floor to keep himself steady, forming the motions of a half-crawl. Blood leaked smoothly from beneath his shirt, following them in a thick trail. Tears welled up beneath half-mast eyes; he screwed them up as he let the flood gates open. His throat squeaked in his protest against his threatening sob.

_I'm pathetic. He should've left me when I told him. But…_

"I'm sure…it's just a little…further." The boy huffed.

His knees were drenched in the trail, the material becoming saturated, until it couldn't hold its friction. His knees skidded and lost balance, his arm slipped from the boy's shoulder and he fell onto his side. His body stung and ached where the skin met the floor in its impact.

"Dad!" the boy screamed in alarm and bent down beside him. "You can't give up! You believe in something, don't you? You've got to hold onto that! Please!"

His vision was losing its clarity, blurring further into chaos. His son's bright illuminating skin was starting to dilute with the darkness, growing duller until it diffused into a cloudy existence. He felt truly blind.

Suddenly, a bright light penetrated the darkness. It burned through his senses. He threw his head back to face the vision. The figure stood, the light marked its form and brought warmth to his chest. The pain tried to fight against it, but its rays swallowed the agony whole, leaving a sense of calm and relief he longed to feel. His eyes widened at the silhouette of the shape cast on his mind, he couldn't deny what he recognized.

He followed the bright curves marked out by the light, beautiful, serene; up where the curves flowed in and narrowed before expanding again smoothly and flowing out, reaching for them both as outstretched arms. Neat tendrils flowed from the head of the shape, falling about where the shoulders would be. The boy stared at the glowing figure, and a grin spread wide across his face, his cheeks glowed with a triumphant blush.

Slowly, he pulled his knees in beneath him and warily regained his balance as he grasped his wound. He reclaimed his footing and carefully straightened out his body, expecting himself to be bent over double at any moment. But he felt nothing; his insides remained warm and comforting. He reached out to touch the boy's shoulder.

"We found her." He smiled, but the boy remained fixated with the figure stood before them at a distance. He turned to look at him suddenly, grinned and ran on ahead, sprinting on towards the figure.

"Mom! Wait up!" he cheered, laughing. He forgot the jacket that was wrapped around him and he let it fall from his shoulder in a black heap of folds and fabric.

"Hey! Stop!" he called after him, his body still felt weak and his legs struggled to match the boy's high-spirited speed.

"You'll have to catch me first!" he yelled, laughing.

His legs felt weighed by stone, his lungs were starting to burn, his chest heaved with the effort, but he carried on, though the endeavour seemed meaningless.

"Come…back!" he called through each heaving breath.

He knew the boy had been growing quickly, but he hadn't been expecting this. The boy started to mature, his legs stretched longer, his arms too, even his hair. It grew out as if a great force was pushing down on his head and it started to bleach in the golden light. His shoulders widened and then, his right arm and left leg grew a bright white before deconstructing. But the boy didn't falter, as if it were painlessly natural. Metal replaced the spaces that were left behind, taking on the form that the limbs had vacated. The boy turned his head around, those golden orbs grinned mischievously into his.

"Come on, old man! You're slowing me down!" he cackled. Roy stared into that face, his cheeks reddened with the rising heat and his mouth fell open, amazed. The boy turned back to face the figure, his gait could not be wavered.

"Fullmetal? Wait! Please!" He reached for the boy, his feet tripped momentarily before regaining their steps. But he didn't turn back.

He grew taller then. His skin stretched out from his back and slithered over his metal arm. It curled around, mimicked its form, and took on flesh, as if the limb had never been taken. The skin grew from his thigh in the same way, but never did it cause his leg to hesitate. His hair began to recede, shrinking back into his head until all that was left was a spiked, uncombed mess of ruffled hair. Something began to form in his hand, growing in a melted state from his fingertips and taking shape, but his eyes couldn't seem to recognise it.

"Just stop!" he called out to him, his breathing haggard.

"You can't keep up, can you?" his voice sounded around him in a deeper tone, but he didn't turn to face him. His eyes widened, a shiver ran down his neck, the hairs of his neck stood on end.

He turned around suddenly, stopping in his tracks. The metal object was pointing straight for him. Alarm bells rang; he tried to cease his momentum. "This battlefield has no room for sentimentality." A single shot rang out through the darkness and the figure disappeared along with all the light he had come to know.

-/\*_;)(-

A sense of frustration welled up in his chest. He could feel himself floating, falling, the floor never felt so far away. The darkness weighed in on him, despite the freedom, he felt bound to it. Even though there was no light, he could not open his eyes. He could feel them, pressed against the lower lids, his pupils zipping from corner to corner, searching for a crack of light; they were clamped shut. His mind directed his hands to them, he wanted to force them open, but his hands were immobile. He hated it; his other senses were gone.

His eyes were useless; there was no need for taste or smell; there was nothing to hear, not even a howling wind. He was a single mind, a single entity, unable to grope for meaning because there was no vessel to grope with.

_So, this is death…right? _

A cackle of laughter rumbled through him. It triggered his senses and pain radiated throughout his nerves. Something coiled around him, it constricted his body tightly, crushed his limbs together. He wanted to scream out, knowing now that he had a voice, but his mouth was clamped shut. He could feel them against his cheek, the fingers and its base, now flat against his mouth. Their tips pressed into his skin, sharper, stabbing and breaking through the surface. The hot blood ran down his chin and yet they wormed further, gouging down to the bone.

He tried to struggle free, break through the hold upon him. He could feel himself being pulled suddenly, dragged through empty air. He tried to open his eyes again, but other fingers tried to crush them shut. He tried to fight against them, separate his lids from their bases, but his hands were flat against his hips and his facial muscles just weren't strong enough. They found their hold at the top his eyeballs; they pushed them in against his skull, further, against the bone. He struggled harder.

The coils yanked themselves away from his form. They tossed him easily away. He could feel himself, falling; he flailed for some sort of balance, just flailed for several seconds. He hit the ground with a great force against his side. He shook; he placed his hands flat against the ground. Pain pricked at his joint, purveyed itself over them like tight, wet bandages; dull aches became cushions for the stabbing ones. He gritted his teeth against it.

The laughter rolled out again. His eyes shot open. It didn't matter after all; there was no light either way, the darkness pressed in against his face. Blind…completely….

_Weak...you're weak…_

The voice sliced through, barrelled into his face, knocked him onto his back. He clenched his jaw, worked his fist, and felt the ache spread from his knuckle to his elbow.

"Weak…?" he wanted to show his defiance, but the word came out on a pathetic note; almost as if he was agreeing with it.

_Yes, not nearly as strong as the real thing. _

"The real thing?" He scowled deeply amidst the ache; it gnawed deep in his bones. "What do you…?"

_You're fake!_

A deep throb erupted behind his ears, putting up barriers; too late. They seemed to crumble easily.

"You don't know that." A smirk twisted up on his dry lips, wherever it was, wherever it was hiding, he had to prove it wrong; show it.

_I do! You're born of an illusion. Never even existed to begin with; the only reason you do comes from this one, simple fact. You're fake; nothing more, nothing less..._

He held his breath, so that he didn't have to breathe it in. That way, he could forget it existed, pretend he didn't know. But, as the old saying goes, truth will out.

_You were so easy to kill, after all. The fake are always the easiest to kill. _

"Prove it." he growled, he was already sick of its biting voice, "Or better yet, show yourself! I'm not going to believe the words of some coward who only knows how to hide in the shadows!" he pushed himself up onto his knees with sickeningly painful movements, but if it could see him, he at least had to look ready. The darkness remained unmoving. "Come on!" he cajoled, "are you scared of me?" the new height made him feel light-headed and he laughed giddily, "Is that it? Huh?" something struck his gut and he fell back, gripped it. The same pain came hurtling back, coiled itself around his gut and squeezed. He managed to supress the pain long enough to see the figure stride out from his dark cover.

Set inside his pale, illuminating skin, his golden eyes were narrowed; his short blond hair was ruffled and his lips carried a smirk, something akin to scrutiny. He wore a white shirt that was ripped in places with sleeves rolled up to the elbows, tucked into a pair of blue military pants and black boots. The smirk spread wider then, revealing a toothy grin.

His eyes widened at the mere sight of him, his body shook, and he could hardly support himself. A lump grew in his throat and the heat rose from his chest, reddening his cheeks and burning at the rims of his eyes, as though they could melt.

_Oh stranger of little faith!_

The voice now had a body, and it laughed in almost genuine mirth.

_As I said before, you were born of the Matrix, and neither do you believe in the Real world; just like a fake._

His eyes narrowed into a glare, "Bastard, how dare you wear _his_ face." He seethed.

_Believe me, fake, I am the real thing, you on the other hand don't even compare._

"I am _not _fake." He bared his teeth at him.

_Your birth says otherwise. _

"My _birth _doesn't matter! I can do everything a human can! I can see, hear, and smell, taste and I can touch!"

_Ha, so can a dog!_

"_Either way! _I can do all the things I have been able to do before I was unplugged; I can perceive everything I would need to, just as my people can perceive me!" but the man seemed neither fazed nor concerned; he chuckled.

_What brave words, but it's not a question of how people perceive you, but of how you perceive the world. _

The body dived forward, landed on top of him. He tried to drag himself back, but the body held him there, straddling his hips as he sat heavily in his lap. He held his shoulders down.

The grip was stronger, thicker than he expected.

_Sure you can feel; it's the only sense that can provide you with any solid proof of what you see. _

He loosened his grip on one shoulder and brushed his fingers softly up and down his arm in a soothing motion.

_ You can feel its texture; you can feel how much it weighs… _

He gripped his arm suddenly.

_And you may even be able to throw it. _

His face neared his, his warm breath danced along his skin, and his voice followed an example of hush that he could only recall some time before.

_But the evidence of what it could be just from touch is not nearly convincing enough. _

His lips closed around his, his eyes shut on the contact. He let the body fall away into the darkness; let the soft and kneading pressure fill him up. He felt all too ready to open his mouth for him before the other pulled away.

_For instance…_

His voice held a breathy quality, still warm against him.

_Just because someone kisses you, doesn't mean they're really there._

He stared into him; a cold shiver ran down the back of his neck.

"But…! You said…!"

The body stood up from his lap, the smirk returned easily.

_Seeing is believing, Roy; but then again, you can't always believe what you see. _

"I don't…" he eyes narrowed in bewilderment.

_Your senses have been fabricated: your eyes have been blinded; your ears are only telling you what you want to hear. Your nose and mouth only taste synthesized mush and speak in tongues you can only understand because you've been taught it makes sense. _

The body stepped back from above him, holding his gaze, holding his smirk; he stared into them, his mouth gaped, entranced.

_Touch is the only half-reliable sense you have, and yet even that can lie to you: who's to say that everything or everyone you touch isn't really a monster ready to rip you to pieces?_

The heat became too much. Sweat started to cling to his brow, rolling down in cooling beads.

_Or who's to say that you're not really a monster yourself, hm?_

The beads started to thicken, crawl down his skin, his face, their slimy forms started to crack into three holes. They gained sight; their mouths opened wide, screaming, crying. His eyes widened to their sound, so close, bombarding his face's surface as more sweat rolled out from his pores. He returned his gaze to the man stood before him, and clenched his teeth, hardening the eye contact.

"Then aren't you a monster too?" He screamed, his accusation echoed across the realm, but it only made his smile grow.

_Your senses are better than expected, but aren't you going to deny the allegations against you? _

He raised an eyebrow pointedly.

"I have done many things in the past for me to deserve that name, but living in a different world does not immediately erase the things I did! I do not deserve a clean slate!"

_But your life has been a lie. _

"It's not a lie!" He countered.

_Then if you continue to believe in that, you'll not last very long. While you continue to hold onto your obsessions, you'll never be free. _

"I don't intend on being free of anything!"

The body threw back his head, laughter bounced from his throat.

_Then say good bye to you freedom! _

A cone of darkness erupted from between them. Roars of agony filled his ear in the face of the blast and it overtook him, swallowed him whole.

-/\*_;)(-

He jolted up. His breathing heaved. His hands went to his face, hesitant at first but with more conviction as his fingers brushed across the smooth surface of his skin. He let out a long breath, his breathing started to steady, he could relax at least.

Something caught his attention from the corner of his eye, and he stood up to face it, lit by flickering bulbs.

A man stood before him with an eyebrow cocked in a curious manner. He stepped towards him, the man followed suit, left foot first. His eyes followed its every motion; a black-booted foot, tucked into it were blue cotton-tweed pants, familiar somehow, he couldn't gather where they were from. His eyes followed up the leg, a stroke of colour disturbed the orderly vision of the man he had before, red. It stained along the top of his pants, down towards his groin, blood.

He followed the stain up towards the man's waist; it stained the short blue jacket in uneven blotches where it stained through from some secret place. The jacket was buttoned up, folded right over left. From the man's left shoulder, a yellow braided rope was joined together around his shoulder by a metal loop and the single rope was attached to his chest pocket. Over the right pocket, coloured bars decorated it, signs of achievement and reward where it was due.

Curiously, his hands went to the buttons, the man followed in perfectly synchronised movements. His eyes never left the man's pale hands, and watched as they unbuttoned the jacket and pulled it open. The stains had spread wider, deeper; it was an intensely deep red from below the ribs that spread up to his chest and downwards especially, down towards the top of his pants, down towards his… A hand went where the shirt met his pants, and pulled up a side, the edges were torn and uneven. His fingers trailed then towards the stain and rubbed, it felt wet against the pads of his fingers.

He looked down towards his own; blood ran into the grooves of his fingertips, his eyes widened. He looked up towards the man's face, his skin was pale, and below dark, narrow eyes the skin was bruised and purple. Blood stained his chin where it had run from his mouth. His black hair was grey in places, wet at the front and clinging to his brow. His mouth gaped just as he felt his own do so.

He stepped back, so did the man; he should've known, reflection.

The glass started to blur, the figure shrunk; a miniature self stood behind the glass with his hands pressed against the glass, naked, his coffee orbs stared up into his, lost.

"Why?" suddenly, more than one voice spoke at once, but on the same high note. He whizzed around, more lit up mirrors, but not all contained the boy. "Why daddy?" he faced the original, eyes wide, "why did you do this to me? I thought you loved me." He backed away from it, shaking his head. His back hit the glass behind, he pressed himself away from the boy.

"After all you've put me through!"

He gasped and jumped, he spun around to face it, backed away again. The woman was sat in a heap, her blonde hair trailed her shoulders, and her hands masked her face.

She brought them away from her red cheeks, "How could I have chosen to follow you?" she screamed back at him, her chest heaved with effort; her face was crushed with rage. "YOU TOOK ADVANTAGE OF ME!" more women, all identical, roared back at him.

"I-I didn't…" he uttered, "I didn't mean…" he receded from her reflection, stepping down the row.

Explosions erupted from panes of glass, his body jolted into alertness. Gun fire rained towards him from all sides, he quickly dove out of its range. Buildings crumbled under the strain, brick thundered down onto the ground, their cries filled his ears.

"It's alright…"

He turned towards the voice, louder than the tirade, and found himself staring at the black dirty sole of a boot. He brought his hands beneath him and onto his knees and he stared into the glass. The man lay on the floor, dust covered, with blood running freshly down his chin and from his head. The blood ran into a golden eye, tainting its pure hue.

"…stranger." The man coughed, his blood congealed and stained the dirt in a red bubble. "You can let me…die here…you're secret's…safe with me." He stood up on his knees and pressed his hands to the glass, letting a small smile grace his lips. "I'm just…trash to you anyway…aren't I?" he fell back from the dying man; other men in their glasses didn't fail to respond, "Well? Don't…keep me in suspense!"

He sprung up from his feet, he had to run. He gave chase, but their voices followed him.

"BASTARD! Dad, don't go! You know I'm right! Trash!"

He clapped his hands to his ears, he darted for the end. A mirror came up at the edge, her face howled and banged at the glass. His feet skidded; he nearly tripped as he came to the corner. They staggered but resumed their gait. His hands went back to his ear, he screwed his eyes shut.

"Please!" he yelled, "Shut up! I'm sorry!" but their voices roared in his ears,

"Dad, you taught me never to- LIAR! Yeah…fuck off!"

He opened his eyes, met another corner, their faces up against the glass. He coasted round them, avoiding their gazes. His heart thrummed in his chest, louder, heaving, it throbbed in his ears. Another corner, he made it past their thunderous cries. The aisle stretched out before him, widening, the mirrors adorned the edges of the room; all stared into him with piercing eyes. He shut his eyes to them.

His foot caught against the other and, with his hands still gripped, he fell. His face scraped across the floor on impact, and he lay there; he took in deep cool breaths as his breathing began to retain a pace of normalcy and his heart slowly gave up on its former adrenalin speed. He opened his eyes finally, and taking his hands away from his ears, the room had quietened, the ruckus had died.

He looked out before him, and he couldn't help but stare at the mirror before him. It was larger than the ones at its sides and frameless, lit only by the bulbs of its neighbours. It hardly seemed beautiful, only grand in size, and yet his eyes were drawn to the figure that sat inside it, curled up with their back to him and their knees drawn to their chest. The long golden hair trailed down past their shoulders, he didn't need to see their face, and he knew the figure well.

Slowly, he regained his footing, and as he did, the figure turned his head; a smile lit up their face upon recognition. He gasped then, stepping back, another man's cruel smirk seemed to shine through on his lips.

_It's alright. _

He screwed his eyes shut, listening closely to the voice; a small boy seemed to smile back.

_He's not Chase; you know that. They're not the same. _

He opened his eyes to face the hopeful figure, and tentatively, he edged a foot forward. The steps got easier; he carried on forward, gaining on the mirror. The figure pressed his hands to the glass, his smile grew wider.

"What took you so long?" the figure grinned.

A smile rose on his face, the heat rose in his cheeks.

"Give me a break, Ed!" he laughed. "I've fallen through the ground, suffered a lethal wound, been shot in the head and these mirrors aren't exactly a walk in the park either." He pressed his hands to the mirror, the glass rippled out from his touch, he stared at it incredulously. Edward's own hand slid to his and pressed there; his smile deepened. He quickly pulled his hand away, drew it into a fist and started to bang at the glass. The glass rippled with each impact his fist made, but it didn't give way to his force.

He frowned finally, concentrating on the rippling glass, "Help me, Ed, how do I break this glass?"

"You can't." He looked up into Edward's gaze, surprised, "You'll have to free your mind." Edward answered, smiling.

"That old thing?" he scowled.

"I know it's hard, but think about it! This is your environment and it's yours to manipulate!" He gave him a look of encouragement, "You can do it!"

He held his gaze for seconds longer before sighing finally. He breathed deeply before shutting his eyes, letting himself be touched by darkness again.

_Free your mind. _

The thought prevailed in his mind as he opened his eyes again, and nodded, "Alright, I think I can do it."

He pressed his hand to glass, closing his eyes.

_Free your mind. _

He could feel the glass give way as it let his hand penetrate the rippling surface. Slowly, as his hand sunk deeper, warmth branched itself slowly through his fingers and into his body, it hugged at his nerves, they seemed to melt to the touch. His eyes opened to the new sensation and he could see it. His hand had sunk through to the other side, coated now in silver-coloured glass; its reflection and clarity disturbed. His eyes widened, almost in disbelief, he almost felt giddy.

His arm sank in further, as far as his elbow now and it still sank in deeper. He reached out for Edward's arm, and with a triumphant smile, grasped it. But the glass compromised his grip, and the arm immediately slipped out of his grip as he tried to pull him close.

"That won't be enough. You'll have to put your whole body into it."

A hot sweat collected at his brow and he clenched his teeth. His gaze fell at his hand, still coated in the swirling glass. His gaze travelled up Edward's arm and settled on his face. His smile seemed to be permanently carved there, and slowly, he returned it.

He pressed his other hand to the glass; it opened up to his touch and his hand sank in with ease. The glass formed around his hand, over his jacket, fusing together skin and fabric. He stepped closer to the glass, letting the glass swallow his arms into its warm touch, clamping onto him tightly.

"You're doing great!" Edward encouraged, "Just a little more!"

He nodded, smiling.

He brought his face to the surface, his gaze fell to his arms, and a thought crossed his mind.

"Won't I be suffocated by the glass?" his smile fell.

"It'll be alright," Edward smiled warmly, "Here, I'll help." He brought his face up towards the other, tilting it hopefully.

He lowered his head to it, tilting in a natural response, he pursed his lips, drawing them shut and they met at the surface. Their eyes shut as the glass rippled out, the heat spread on his lips. It filled his whole body with a new kind of warmth. But, as Edward drew the pressure away, he wanted to hold it, and his head sank into the glass surface.

It heated his face, growing hotter; it fused on his skin tightly, over his mouth, around his nose, soon his whole face was being swallowed whole; he relented to its control. It gripped him then, the heat rose, the pressure built around his head, prickling and burning at his skin. His nerves frayed, came alive, the pain stabbed through his pores. He screamed.

Muffled sounds covered his ears, but he couldn't make them out. Before him all he could see was the sliver glass's mesmerising surface. His eyes grew wide to it; the glass suckered itself on their surfaces, searing his eyes.

_Shit! This shouldn't -!_

Panic flared in his chest, he tried to draw back, the glass set hard; he couldn't move. His mind raced, every picture, every memory flashed through his brain, taking a hold of him and squeezing tight. The pole seemed to penetrate his mind, his head shot up in shock.

_Come on! I have to free my mind! Open myself to what others don't believe! Let go of everything that's weighing me down! I won't let myself be blinkered! I have to open my eyes to what others remain blind to! _

The burning sensation lessened at his brow, the glass loosened and dripped smoothly from his eyes, losing its grip. Edward's face fell into view, his eyes wide and fearful.

_I can see!_

He pushed himself further into the glass, battling forward, his arms reached out and wrapped around him tight. He drew Edward's body close to his, drawing his face to his neck. With as much force as before, he pulled himself out. The glass drew from his form, receding into its original surface. The heat lessened, the warmth left a cooling impression.

As the glass pulled itself free of his arms, he fell to the floor; the body struggled in his arms.

"It's alright! Calm down!" He growled, still trying to regain his breath. As his eyes fell onto him, he gasped. The whole of him was covered in the glass that had freed itself from his form. "Shit!" He rolled him onto his back, the glass travelled along his body, covering his limbs.

Edward struggled, writhed under its grasp, his mouth wide open, the thinning glass frothed from his mouth. His screams were muffled from beneath it.

He grabbed hold of the glass, despite its burning touch and began to pull at it. Clumps gelled and came away in his hand, but soon the remaining glass joined to fill in the gaps. He took a hold of another spot and pulled it free. A golden eye shone from beneath, wide and red. The glass moved to fill in the space, pouring into his eye, steaming where it hit the naked orb.

"Dammit!" He clenched his fist, and beat the ground, "Isn't my mind free enough?" frustration welled in his chest; it burned in his face, as if his eyes would melt.

_Wait…so my belief has to be constant…?_

He closed his eyes to absorb the feeling, the thought, for his mind to break free. Unclenching his fists, he rested them on Edward's shuddering face; he stroked his cheek, soothing the movements.

"Dammit Ed! Hang on! I won't let you die!" His hands went to Edward's forehead and his fingers, straight and positioned, pushed in through the glass until he could feel the surface of Edward's skin on his fingertips. He started to pull it apart, hoping the glass would give; he shut his eyes with the effort, his knuckles turned white with the strain. He could feel the writhing beginning to calm; lose its breath.

_Don't give up now, Ed! You can do this! I believe!_

The glass tore apart. His hands pulled the glass in half, freeing a red face. As he pulled the chunks of glass away, it remained broken and the flowing glass on his body fell away around him. The glass still remained around his mouth, his body still struggled. He pushed his fingers in through his mouth, and pulled the glass up from his throat. It came free as long, thick flexible piping, coming out from his mouth in a long slippery rush. His body arched, he rolled quickly to the side and started to gasp, coughing and hacking for breath.

He pulled the glass piping apart, the want to free Edward completely of his potential killer still existed; it had to be torn to pieces as he threw the remains to the side. But, as he reached the end of it, something shone at its tail, like a bright ruby. He pulled the remaining glass from it, and held it up between his thumb and index finger. Its bloodshot waves swirled within its small mass, throbbing within his hold. A Philosopher's stone.

Beside him, Edward sat up from his coughing fit, wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and gazed as he glared intensely into the stone. He smiled towards him, "You can throw that away as well if you want."

"What?" He stared at him, amazed, incredulous, "After years of searching for this with your brother, you want me to throw it away…?"

"Yeah." Edward grinned.

"But…these are human souls! You're just going to waste them like that?" his face creased up angrily, he clenched the stone tightly in his fist.

Edward sighed finally, "You just don't get it, do you? All you do is obsess over the lives of other people, especially the dead. It won't get you anyway, just like our search for the stone! They may be human lives, but I'm not going to take advantage of their position and use them for personal gain." He let out a breath, reached out and covered his hand with his own. "People are going to die, so there's no use aching over all of them. Just be glad you're alive, ok?" his hand loosened beneath Edward's. "That's all you have time to do."

His finger's dug into his loose fist and curled the stone into his own. He pulled his arm back and threw the stone before he had time to react. It flew towards a mirror, in towards a battlefield. The glass cracked on impact, and shattered from its frame.

Suddenly, it twisted in his gut, wretched and heaved. Pain shot through. He gripped it tight, curling up against it. With a sickening crack, his body stiffened straight; he threw his head back, screaming in agony. Then, red and winding, they erupted from his mouth, whizzing into the sky; his eyes were wide as the souls of the stone rushed out of him. The force shook the ground beneath them, and all around, the mirrors shattered on their own; crashed to the floor, raining glass.

As the last were freed to the open air above, his body slackened. He gripped his gut, it wretched like before, he bent over double, coughed and hacked up blood.

"Roy!" Edward quickly caught him as he slumped to the side.

-/\*_;)(-

He sat down at the bedside chair, stirring the glop around in its bowl. As he faced the bed, he sighed at the sight of the man, resting against the headboard and staring into that blank space; his eyes still void of expression. His skin was a paler white than before, bordering a pallor grey. His lips looked cracked and dry. He served a spoon of glop and brought it up to Roy's mouth, but he stared on through it.

"_Come on, Roy. Please? You need to eat." _He pushed the spoon through his lips, but frowned when the head of the spoon, once again, only made it as far as the calcium safeguard. He pushed the spoon in, tried to shimmer it through any possible gap, but his mouth was too guarded.

He clenched his teeth; the spoon shook in his hand, his stomach twisted anxiously.

_"Please, Roy, you don't want to die…" _his cheeks turned red and his eyes heated, growing damp and "…_do you?" _his hand grew slack, and the spoon fell from his hand, the contents fell into Roy's lap. The heat welled in his chest, a fire growing stronger.

_"I know you hate me!" _He seethed through gritted teeth. _"You've made that pretty clear. So, I know you won't take anything from me; not if you can help it, but this is no excuse! You're dying, Roy! Whether you like it or not, unless you eat something, you're dying!" _His body shook, the tears trembled from his lids, _"but you have to eat. You have to carry on, and live, no matter how bad things get. Not for my sake, or anyone else's, but your own…" _sobs and keening whimpers escaped from his throat, they shook through his body. He placed his head in his hands; the bowl of ration fell from his lap, falling to the floor.

A thud broke his stupor; he looked up from his lap. His head lolled against the wall; a trickle of blood from his mouth rolled down his chin.

"_Roy!" _ He rushed onto his bed; he wrapped his arm around his shoulder, supporting him.

-/\*_;)(-

He gripped his wound; the blood seemed to spread beneath his shirt, his pain throbbed and seized him there. He stared helplessly into those golden orbs; the sweat clung at his brow, leaving his hair in a damp mess across his forehead. Edward worried his lower lip, the tears gathered at his lids in a visible wetness; he could see his reflection in them, pitiful, pathetic, and weak.

_You can't die!_

The words echoed from Edward's mouth, a voice behind another, holding strong.

_Please! You can't let something like this stop you!_

He blinked heavily; the tears fell and dappled his cheeks.

_I know you've lost your life in Amestris, but you're a soldier! This should be nothing for you!_

The tears gathered in his own, his mouth hung open at the sound of his words. His gut twisted, tied into knots, the pain crippled him, and he wanted to scream.

_You've got a good pair of legs, so get up and use them!_

His head slumped to the side and stared weakly at the bulb-laden frames of the mirrors, shattered glass adorned the floor. He rolled his eyes for a better view, there; a boy stared, gripped the glass. One mirror remained.

-/\*_;)(-

He shook him, but no response came, his orbs stared blankly towards the ceiling, empty.

His mouth hung open, the tears flowed freely, and he worried his lower lip, his brows knitted. He hugged him close, hung his head and he sobbed into his chest.

_"I know you're strong…" _he whimpered, _"you can make it…because I…" _he swallowed hard, _"I-I…" _

He gasped. His chest heaved. He sat up quickly, knocking Edward back and off the bed. He gripped his wound as a flash of pain suddenly jolted and coughed with each new intake of breath. From the floor, Edward stared up at him, his eyes wide in shock, astonishment, but a smile drew across his lips.

He turned his head slowly towards him, gaping, _"…E-Edward…?" _

Edward returned it with a smile, slowly getting up from his feet. He found his seat, their eye contact never broke.

He gulped quickly, _"Ed…I-I'm…" _he suddenly reached forward, wrapping his arms around and clutching him close. _"I'm sorry for the way I've treated you!" _his voice cracked under the new strain, coming out like a strangled whisper, _"I've treated you like crap, time and again, and I realise now that I should never have put my obsessions before you…I know now that they're pointless and they won't get me anywhere… but, I'm going to get better, I promise! I won't quit…but, I can understand…if you don't want to forgive me…I wouldn't if…."_

_ "I forgive you." _

He gasped, tears escaped him.

_"It's taken you a while to accept the truth, but I should never have taken you out of the Beta-Matrix in the first place. It was selfish and unfair; if anything, I brought all this upon myself." _

_ "B-But I shouldn't I have lashed out-!"_

_ "It doesn't matter anymore." _He pulled himself free of his arms, facing him proper. _"I'm just glad you're ok!"_ He grinned.

Roy stared at him. A smile suddenly broke on his lips and a weak laugh bounced from his throat. Edward stared at him incredulously.

_"Me too." _He smiled. A cough seized his lungs, dry and halting. He bent over quickly, taking in quick breaths.

_ "Roy! Are you-?"_

_ "Ed!" _he gasped, _"Water…please." _

_ "Right!" _Edward nodded, and quickly ran from the room, slammed the door shut in his haste. He dashed for the kitchen, picked up a cup from the sink and filled it up. He rushed back, stepping carefully so it didn't spill. Opening the door to the room again, he passed it to Roy, who threw his head back and drank with a thirsty abandon. _"Careful! Not so fast!" _

He let out a refreshed sigh, dropping the cup to the floor and wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. He smiled finally, resting himself back against the headboard.

_"Thanks Ed, that's a lot better." _He shut his eyes, a sense of colour seemed to return to his face, for once there seemed to be a look of calm; one he hadn't seen in a long time.

Edward gave a sigh of relief as he returned to his seat; he forgot about the ration on the floor, and let a veil of silence pull its shroud over them. It rested there between them for a while at least.

_"Edward?" _his voice breached the pair, he turned his head towards him, but his eyes remained shut, peaceful, the smile remained.

_"Yes?" _Edward's head perked attentively.

_"Who won the simulation?" _

The smile from Edward's face fell, and he glanced down out of his gaze. Roy's eyes opened and he stared at him curiously.

_"Edward?"_

_ "We don't know." _Edward answered finally, _"We don't know because Trinity has been kidnapped."_

Roy's eyes flashed wide before narrowing, _"By who?"_

_ "Agent Smith, but it's not just him; he's paired up with someone from our matrix, Envy." _His eyes didn't meet his._ "We have to meet them at the Heart O' The City Hotel and exchange Morpheus for her, or we won't see her again. Neo's been taking it pretty hard." _

_ "So soon after kidnapping her?" _He stared, astonished.

_"No," _Edward shook his head, _"you've been out of it for two days; she was kidnapped before then." _

Roy considered his words, narrowed his eyes, _"And do you have a plan?"_

_ "So far, we're going to go along with the plan and give Morpheus in exchange for Trinity. That's the conclusion we've come to." _

_ "But there must be something else they want; otherwise they could have anyone of us." _

Edward sighed, _"They know that Morpheus has the codes to the Zion mainframe. If we let the Agents have them then the machines will be able to enter Zion, but Morpheus is convinced that he will be able to stop them from getting the codes."_

Roy turned his head aside, staring into his lap; he fingered the spoon that had fallen there. _"You know they'll have methods of getting the codes out of him, right?" _

_"Once Morpheus makes a decision, there's not much you can do to change it." _Edward frowned.

_"It's a shame, you need a better plan; for one, you need to find out which room she's being held in." _he frowned, narrowed his eyes in concentration.

_ "But that plan carries a lot of risks-!" _Suddenly, Roy drew his legs to edge of the bed, using Edward's shoulder as a support as he got to his feet. _"Wait! What are you doing?" _Edward protested, _"You're too weak to get up!"_

_ "I'm fine!" _Roy countered; he stepped on towards the door, gripping his wound. As he reached the open door, he fell against the door frame.

_ "No you're not! You've not been moving or eating for the past couple of days! Of course you're not fine!"_

_ "I'm good enough for ok, but not for fine?" _Roy smirked.

_"Fine is completely different to the kind of condition you're in!"_

_ "Then at least help me to the top deck, ok?" _Roy frowned; he stared into his golden eyes.

Edward sighed finally, _"I guess I have no choice."_

_ "And now you know how I've been feeling."_ This time, he let Edward support him with his shoulder and slowly they drew closer to the ladder across the hall.

_"I still don't think this is a good idea." _Edward uttered in a note of concern.

-/\*_;)(-

'Are you sure there's no other way?' Tank stared at Morpheus from his seat at the monitor, the man's arms were folded across his chest and he smiled across to Tank.

'Yes, I cannot see any other way out of this, except for me to give myself up.'

'Some Captain you are.' Neo scowled from his fur-lined chair, glaring at Morpheus.

'Do I detect a hint of mutiny?' Morpheus raised an eyebrow pointedly.

'No good Captain would give up on Zion! So why would you even consider it?' Neo seethed through his teeth.

'Because I believe that you will save Zion from the machines; no choice can change that fate.' He answered him with a tone of composure.

Neo stared at him, 'You really believe that? That one man like me can do that?'

'You have Edward too; you're not alone, Neo.' Morpheus smiled.

The clang of feet on metal broke the air. They turned towards it. Slowly, a black and grey haired figure bobbed up and reached the top; their breaths were bated. As he finally reached the top, he bent over, trying to regain his breath.

He glared up at all of them, and his eyes fell on Neo. He pointed an almost accusing finger towards him, and Neo stared up at him.

"_I still owe you from Zion!" _He yelled, _"And it sounds like you need the help of a military tactician!" _He smirked, _"I know how we can get Trinity's hotel number!"_

They all stared at him, stunned, amazed, shocked.

Just then, a blond head bobbed up, resting his chin on the floor of the top deck, "You see? I told you he was worth the trouble!" He grinned.

* * *

Author's note: Finally! This took over a month to write, in other words a buggering _age! _Seriously though, I'm glad it's over now. I can get on with revising for my exams. I hoped you liked the last line of dialogue here from Edward though; this is a reference to Chapter 9, where Neo goes, and "I hope he's worth the trouble." It seemed like an appropriate thing, since Roy was talking to Neo when Ed reiterated it here. This ending to the chapter was going to be in chapter 17, before I decided to insert the mental battle.

The chapter title is Nightmare by Avenged sevenfold from their latest album of the same name. This here is a last minute naming really, because I hadn't heard this song in a long time, and after finally listening to it, I was surprised that I didn't think of it before! The lyrics and the music do fit the craziness that Roy goes through in his dream scape. A lyric I like here, "nothing stops the madness turning, haunting, yearning, pull the trigger!" which is an obvious reference. Then we get great ones like "can't wake up in sweat, 'cause it ain't over yet, still dancin' with your demons (victim of your own creations!" We even have such lines as, "you've been lied to just to rape you of your sight and now they have the nerve to tell you how to feel" which is a reference to Chase's explanation and "so sedated as they medicate your brain" refers to Roy being drugged with morphine in chapter 16, supposedly the thing that started it all. Finally, because I would really go on, these are the lines that sealed the deal on this song, "and I know you hear their voices – calling from above, and I know they may seem real – these signals of love, but our life's made up of choices – some without appeal, they took for granted your soul and it's ours now to steal" which make references to the voices that Roy hears, as well as the ones in front of the gate. You see? I thought it was a good choice.

There was another song that I almost used for this title called Sound the bugle by Bryan Adams, from the film Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron. The lyrics were suitable too, so everyone get out your nostalgic video cassettes and switch on your VHS, and flip over to the bit where Spirit is on the train to the railways. The lyrics are very good for this chapter, but Nightmare just won it for me. What can I say? I'm a fan of the Death-bat!

Anyway, some really weird things happen to Roy in his realm, and I can understand if you don't get what's going on; as I've probably said before that's the point. I've used fucked up dreams so far, and there's nothing really stopping me now. But I'm glad that I added something like this, otherwise the chapter wouldn't have been as interesting.

As I'm sure we know, every time someone speaks to Roy from outside the realm, Roy is able to hear it, though not always react to it, depending on how he reacts anyway. The realm itself then happens from Chapter 15 after Roy has been doped up with morphine, through Chapter 16 when Edward is attempting to feed him and when Morpheus is talking to him near the end of that chapter (plus we see the part of the conversation you didn't see before Edward looked in) and through to Chapter 17 as well.

Well, we see more of Daniel as well in this chapter, as we did in the last one and I'm pretty sure that by now, from what was said in the hall of mirrors that we know who Daniel is. I think we got that impression from the last chapter anyway, but this verifies it at least. We see more Chase too, and he was pretty fun to write, well, as fun as he can be to write while sticking to a rigidly written plan of what he's meant to say. But, with the confusing things that are discussed, it was in a way a necessary evil.

The little ditties that Daniel and Roy sing were typical ones from my childhood (we're talking 10 years ago) and ones my grandparents sung to me to make walking that extra bit special. Of course, since most of you guys on here are American and will never have heard them before, then I apologize, I'm only British after all. For those who have heard them though, I wonder if it evoked in you a feeling of nostalgia. Anyway, they seemed right in this chapter because they sounded like ones that Roy would've taught Daniel anyway, so, you know, good right?

I don't know if you knew this, but when Edward threw the philosopher's stone away, it was representative of Roy losing all of his worries, as was the part where the souls of the philosopher's stone flew out of him. The mirrors shattered, and he let go of his worries. I'm pretty sure that most of you understand the reference to the mirror in the first Matrix film, when Neo touches it and it melts and spreads up his body and down his throat. It was a pretty good way of crossing over the two and still having the Matrix elements amongst the overtly Fullmetal ones. I'm just glad myself though that this animosity between Edward and Roy is finally over and all has been forgiven. It has been hard and frustrating not being able to write any nice bits, but this was good. It was friendly, and it made the struggle of writing and completing chapter 18 worth it. I hope you all at least appreciate the struggle it's been, especially amidst exam time. But with a language exam due in two weeks' time from the writing of this author's note, and since I'm pretty confident in that exam, I know I'll be able to work on chapter 19 and beyond after my revision stints for that exam.

Of course, by the time you've read this, my language exam will be over and I will have hopefully done ok (although, who's to say right now? I don't have Future sight).

If you have any questions about the confusing things that happened during this chapter then I can help you out. All it takes is a review with your comments and your questions! I love helping out my readers wherever I can, so don't be afraid to ask.

Thank you for reading and I hope to hear your reviews, even if you don't have a question for me.

Ophelia Davis

xx

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In other news, Chapter 19 should be out on the 16th July and if it doesn't meet expectations (and why shouldn't it?) I can promise you that it is the longest chapter I have written so far! It is the longest by far in all existence! Hopefully though, this chapter will be enough to keep you all waiting patiently for the update, even if it's only long enough for a two week wait n.n


	19. Missing Persons 1 & 2

This chapter is dedicated to Arago Mae for her lovely reviews and support through the writing of these chapters. I will keep on writing them, I shall not disappoint you!

"_Every heart sings a song, incomplete, until another heart whispers back. Those who wish to sing always find a song. At the touch of a lover, everyone becomes a poet." _– Plato

Switching the weight of the stack to one arm, he slotted, turned the key, pushed down the handle and let the door swing open before him. He manoeuvred himself to the light switch and waited for the bulb to flicker, before he gained a stable cordial light that lit the room. He sighed finally as he deposited the stack onto the coffee table, sat himself down at the sofa in front of the coffee table, and looked up to find Havoc still stood by the door.

"It's a nice place you've got here." Havoc smiled as he backed into the door, shutting it.

"I'm sorry if it seems like a mess. This was last minute." He looked on at the stacks of books and paper that occupied every spare corner of wall between furniture and utilities. The bookshelf stood by the other side of the room, full with other books pushed in above the rows to save some space. He glanced back to Havoc, who was still stood by the door, eyeing his surroundings. "You're welcome to sit down." He frowned.

"I'm getting there." He made his way to the coffee table then, sat himself down in the sofa opposite Falman and placed his own stack by the side of the other.

He looked about him awkwardly while Havoc smiled, giving him an odd look. He met the other man's gaze, and coughed to break the forming silence.

"Sorry, did you want some tea?" Falman offered.

"No, it's alright," he chuckled warmly, "Shall we get down to work?"

Falman glanced at him for a moment, before nodding, "Yeah, sorry." He picked up the diary off Havoc's stack, and flipped through the pages absently. He made another considered turn of the pages, before he found a date that seemed familiar and read it silently.

Havoc continued to gaze at him, following the quick skim of Falman's eyes made across a line, then back, across a line, travelling further down, and skim again. He frowned; the smile left him as what was once excitement became a fidgety impatience.

"So, what did you want to bring up with me? You know, about the diary?" he waited for the words to reach Falman's ears, and sighed as they missed their target entirely and hit a brick wall instead. "Falman?" a little louder this time, and he glanced up then.

"What? Sorry, did you need me?"

"Yeah, you wanted to bring something up with me," He tried to retain some humour, some sign that he wasn't mad, or at least irritated, "that's why you brought me here, right?"

Falman gave a little smile, scratched the back of his head, "Yeah, sorry." He took a deep breath, flicked to the right entry, and passed it on to him. "Read the entry for February 3rd, 1915 and tell me what you notice." Havoc nodded in response.

He waited patiently as Havoc's eyes drew along each curved letter, slowly absorbing the information, trying to make sense of it all in a single bound. Finally, as his eyes went back up to Falman's, a playful smile drew on his lips.

"If the Earth's orbit were to be tipped towards the Sun's abode, then the gravitational force would pull us until we come crashing together…It sounds like an accurate description of Breda's weight problem." He laughed, and Falman returned it with a smile and sigh; just what he would expect him to say.

"No, I don't think that's it." He answered patiently, "It's something else." He thought for a moment, considered his next words as heat collected in his cheeks. "Have you…ever heard of the term, 'Centre of someone's universe'?" Havoc stared at him blankly, then propped his chin on his knuckle, propped up by the elbow in his lap, and frowned with thought.

"Not really, it sounds familiar though." His gaze returned to Falman's.

"It's a term you use for someone you're…" his lips formed apprehensively around his next words, "…in love with."

"Ah, probably why I haven't heard of it then." Havoc chuckled, "I never have time for dates anyway."

_Not like you can get them._

"Why'd you ask?" Havoc smiled, settling his mirth.

"Well, I read the diary earlier, before we started on deciphering it," Falman began, "and when I read that entry, it was one of the first things that came to mind."

"Come on," Havoc laughed, "It's not like it was what Ed was trying to get at."

"Maybe, not, but he was definitely trying to get at something." Falman didn't share his mirth then; Havoc blinked and caught the seriousness of his tone. "I think Ed… might be in love."

Havoc stared at him oddly, and then frowned, "you know, it sounds great and all that Ed's got a crush on some girl, but this seems a little trivial compared to searching for him, don't you think?"

"It's not trivial; it has everything to do with the search. Whether a person loves someone or not has everything to do with where they might go; it's an important factor, and not one to be excluded." Falman glared at him.

"Sheesh, alright," Havoc chuckled, "I guess I'll wait to see where you're going with this."

"Pass it back a minute." He reached out and gently took the diary from Havoc's hand, flipped back through the pages, settled on one and passed it back. "Read this one. This was an entry I came across while we were searching through the reports. It's for October 8th, 1914, after the Cameron report."

"Do you want me to read it out?" Havoc asked, as he started to read it through for himself.

"If you don't mind." Falman nodded.

He narrowed his eyes in concentration, and finally, finding a suitable point to start from, read aloud, "We're nothing but salt on the land, I especially, am no exception to the rule. Lost in the turf, killing the land; nothing grows. So I would think myself lucky, if the fire claimed me for its own, adding to its fuel; it would burn brightly. There would be solace then, for I would not remain, but something greater would replace it. The flames will travel across the dying land, clearing away the poisoned terrain, for something beautiful to grow…." Havoc stared at the page, before glancing back up to Falman. "It sounds similar to the other entry, with how it talks about destruction… and death." He thought on his own words, "Do you think Ed's suicidal?"

"I don't think so." Falman answered. "Maybe depressed, but that entry tells of something growing afterwards, so it doesn't seem _final_." He then added quickly, "But I can see where you would get that idea." He cupped his chin in his thumb and index finger, thinking further, of how to explain it, how to put it across, another example…? "Havoc, turn to the entry for March 10th, 1915 and read it out like you did before." Havoc nodded in compliance and, flicking back towards the first half of the diary, he found the page.

"Ok…" Havoc began, his eyes searched along the words, and he found the date, "…Metal can be useless if it bears no fulfilling shape. Its atoms are immovable, set into the shape of a useless slab. But the rigidness is not a permanent state, for it can be pounded into something new. When thrown into a steady fire, the atoms feel the heat, they start to vibrate, conducting and passing the energy to one another, until they slip from their placements. They change shape, are built into something new, and if heated enough, start to melt…." Havoc frowned, "it sounds like the last one; he's being tossed into a fire."

"Hang on." Falman put his finger up, silencing any further words. Suddenly, he got up from his seat. He strode over for the bookshelf, searched across each spine before pulling out the tome of choice. He walked slowly back to the sofa, flicking through the pages. As he sat down, he stopped at a page, followed down the text with his finger, and almost smiled in silent triumph. "I thought so."

"Huh? Thought what?" Havoc's head perked up.

"The first entry, for February 3rd, is a clear reference to the laws of motion discovered by the Cretan alchemist, Newton. It refers to the first law of inertia, wherein everyone will remain in a state of rest or uniform speed in a straight line, unless it is compelled to change that state by forces acting on it. It also relates to the fact that large spherical symmetrical masses have been shown to attract and are attracted as if all their masses were concentrated at their centres." Falman finished, cleared his throat, before flicking towards another page.

"I'm sorry, but I didn't understand a word of that." Havoc frowned.

"No, I didn't think you would," he sighed, "the second entry relates to this; salt, or as Edward may have meant, table salt, is made up of sodium chloride. Now, when a substance made of sodium is thrown into a fire, it burns a golden colour, an obvious reference to his hair and eye colour. Are you with me so far?"

Havoc thought on these words, "I think so…" he narrowed his eyes, and then lifted his gaze back to him, "…do you think he represents the earth as well?"

"That's what I'm guessing." Falman nodded, "The Earth is the only planet we know with life, and if we think of that being life as _he _knows it, then yes, he would be the Earth."

"And the girl would be the Sun," Havoc sighed, "boy he's got it pretty bad."

Falman averted his gaze from his, his brows knitted uncertainly.

"And the third entry," he continued, "is an obvious reference to his alias, Fullmetal, and to how metal conducts heat."

"I guess it wouldn't be much of a diary if he didn't write about himself." Havoc shrugged, "So what exactly are we trying to get at here, apart from the fact that he's in love with some girl that we, as of yet, haven't heard about."

Falman scowled at him, but his face relaxed, "I guess I'll have to spell it out for you." He took a deep breath, preparing himself, "In each of the entries, he may be talking about fire, and we can determine that as… well, the flames of… desire or passion, or something. But I don't think the entries or meant to be interpreted like that." His eyes wandered, before settling again, "in all of the entries… he is the one receiving the burns. He is the one being harmed, not doing the harming because… well… you could say…" his cheeks started to redden, it spread along his skin as if it were ink dropping onto a page, "… he's… _receiving _it, and, unless he's fallen for a female hermaphrodite… he's talking about a man."

Havoc's eyes widened, he glared at him, his face creased, his mouth gaped; his stomach turned, "w-wait… are you trying to say that… Edward is… _gay_?"

-/\*_;)(-

Roy sat back in a wheelie chair, his shirt pulled up and tucked beneath his chin. He gritted his teeth with each poke and prod that Morpheus carried out on his wound, grunting. Neo, sat in a fur-lined seat, watched from afar, his face strained. Mouse was sat next to him. Apoc and Switch were stood by the door to the cock pit, awaiting Roy's plan. Dozer was sat in a wheelie chair next to Roy, scanning the monitor for information.

'It's not looking too bad, but you'll still need to recover.' Morpheus frowned slightly, but, looking up at Roy, he smiled a little, 'Don't worry, once you start eating properly, the recovery should take a week at most.'

Roy returned his smile with one of his own behind a mask of faint nausea.

"That's a relief." He gritted out, his face was still a pale wash.

'Right, well I'm going to have to ask you to sit up while I put on some clean bandages.' Morpheus turned away to pull out a roll of bandages from a box at his feet, while Roy complied, grasping his back to stop it from moving.

He pressed the edge of the bandage and padding to the wound, holding it with a secure pressure before wrapping it around his torso. Winding the bandage round to its limit, he took out an elastic grip and secured the loose end to the main body of the bandage. He pulled down Roy's shirt, and smiled, seemingly satisfied.

Edward came up onto the top deck, a bowl and spoon balanced in one hand, and he passed it to Roy, dodging past Morpheus.

"Here, I got you some food." Edward grinned.

"Thanks." Roy smiled warmly, took the spoon in hand, and spooned in a large mouthful. Suddenly, he tipped the rest of the contents into his mouth, scooping the glop so that it resisted escape. Emptying it, he wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, grinning, "Sorry, I didn't realise how hungry I was until now."

Neo let out a frustrated sigh, 'Roy, its good you're getting better, but what's the plan? We're all waiting on you.'

He blinked his way, and then placed his dish by the monitor, cleared his throat.

"My plan is to go into the hotel and get the room number from the front desk."

They all stared at him, surprised, emitting odd looks.

Neo stood up from his seat, clenched his fists, 'so that's it! This is the great plan that we're meant to put all our faith in! That's how we're going to save Trinity?' He shouted fiercely.

"Yes, that's exactly how we're going to save her!" Roy growled back in challenge.

'Wait,' Mouse stared at him in defiant confusion, 'so all we have to do is walk up to the desk and ask for the room number?'

"No, there's a lot more to it than that." He frowned. "Let me explain."

-/\*_;)(-

"M-May I?" Havoc breathed, he indicated to his chest pocket.

"Go ahead." With that permission, he quickly reached in, drew out a packet of cigarettes and a box of matches. He stuck a stick in his mouth, struck the match end across the paper and brought it to the end. He took a long drag and let out a forced breath, the smoke billowed from his mouth. Frowning, Falman fanned the smoke away from his face. "Are you alright?" Falman asked.

"To be honest, it sounds like a cruel joke. I mean, it just doesn't seem _possible!_" Havoc tapped the end with agitation. Falman took out an ash tray from underneath the sofa and placed it before Havoc on the coffee table. Muttering his thanks, he brought the cigarette to his lips and took another drag, this time leaving the cigarette secure between his lips. "He's always been so… _tough_! I've never seen him do the flicky thing in my life!" he imitated the action, flicking his hand loosely.

"Just because someone is gay, doesn't necessarily mean they're camp as well."

"You know what I mean! I've never seen him with another guy! Well, not doing anything like _that _anyway."

"But we've not seen him with another girl either." Falman sighed.

"Only with her…." he snapped his fingers impatiently, grabbing a hold of some form of recognition, "Winry! And I thought they were great, you know, as a couple, but he always insisted they were childhood friends, like brother and sister." He clenched his teeth, sucking in the smoke heavily and he laid his head in his hands, threading his fingers through his hair. "Oh, I don't know anymore!"

He watched as Havoc threaded his fingers further, and finally, leaning in, "Jean…?" the man's blue eyes peered up at him from between his palms. "… This is really getting to you, isn't it?"

His brows knitted forlornly and he picked up his head. Taking the cigarette from between his lips, he tapped the collecting ash into the tray.

"I know it is, but…" he sighed finally, "I guess I'm not handling this very well." He slotted the stick back between his lips, taking another drag. A soft smile came up on his lips. "I always thought that, when he was old enough, we would go to a bar and… he would pick up girls for me. Then he'd joke and grouch at me, complaining I should be bloody old enough to do it myself by now. Then I'd laugh it off and buy him a drink or something to make up for it." He chuckled, almost mutely, "but I guess that dream's gone down the pan now; got flushed when he left." The edges of his lips fell.

A smile came up on Falman's lips, "You had some hopes for that kid… as a drinking buddy?"

Havoc nodded sadly.

"You know, he can still be that too, the girls wouldn't know the difference." Falman offered, jokingly.

"But being drinking buddies isn't just about picking up girls; don't get me wrong, that's one of the benefits. But…" Havoc continued, his face softened, "It's about sitting at a bar table, leaning over glasses of scotch while being able to talk, even confide in each other. You know? Screw the family and work atmosphere!" he moved his hands, exaggerating, as if flinging it away, "Just us, you know? Looking at baby pictures and agreeing that he definitely has his father's eyes, or laughing about how she got pushed into a lake on their family holiday to the South." A smile seemed to last, but his face crushed up, ready to mouth his disgust, "Instead, I'll have to put up with him bawling about Alejandro and how he's always being so unfair or threatening to leave him for some Aerugan with a 'smashing tan'." his lips pursed, as if his mouth were filling with bile.

"I'm sorry that things are turning out this way, but they are." He reached over the piles of papers, patting his shoulder. "We shouldn't be so hard on him, he's still growing, and he's still finding his voice. He's still finding out a lot of things about himself, and making choices, and even though he might come to regret them later, we don't have any right to interfere. All we can do is be there for him when things go wrong, or when he needs our support." He smiled hopefully.

He took one last drag, before he grabbed the cigarette from between his lips and crushed it into the ash tray. A thread of smoke went up from its destruction, and Havoc breathed it in, sighing.

"I know, but it's not exactly what nature intended. Men and women were put on the earth so that they could get married and have children. That's the way things are, but men were not meant to date each other. That's why they can't have children, well, they can with a woman, but that's how it's _meant _to be."

"You shouldn't need to worry so much. There are going to be plenty of men and women having children," he smiled, "some newspapers even say that it's happening too often, but Edward's just not going to be one of them. And, you never know, down the line he might change his mind about his lifestyle, find a nice girl and settled down. At this point, nothing's concrete."

Havoc looked up at him, "Then, how can we be _sure _that this is a guy and not a girl? Edward's the 'torture me' type, so couldn't it just be a girl who's into BDSM?"

Falman shook his head, "I know a little something about alchemy, and I've always heard that, between the sun and the moon, the sun is always considered masculine, as is the element of fire. I have no doubt now, that Edward is talking about a man in his entries."

He gripped his knees tight and turned his head aside gritting his teeth. Suddenly, he stood up from his seat, and made for the door. Falman stood up quickly, alarmed.

"I'm sorry; I don't think I can do this anymore." Havoc mouthed coldly, "Thanks for having me, sorry for the trouble, good bye." He grabbed a hold of the door handle, but Falman caught his hand. Havoc turned back to him. "Let me go." He uttered forcefully.

"Jean, this isn't going to help things. I know there's nothing we can do about it, but no matter what his choices are, we are still looking for him and we're still looking for Roy."

"I wanted to _find_ them, not become involved in some _sick_ mess!" Havoc growled; he fought against Falman's grip on his wrist.

"If you want to find them then stay! Otherwise, I'll let you leave." He eyes set, serious, glaring into Havoc's. "But with what we've uncovered, we're so close now! If we can find out the guy's name, then we'll be even closer!"

His eyes widened, his grip loosened on the handle and he turned to face Falman proper. He stared at him, into his eyes, waiting for Falman to belie some kind of signal.

"You know who the guy is;" he uttered slowly, his voice still set in its cold tone, "don't you?"

He glanced out of Havoc's gaze, his hand slipped from his wrist. "All of the entries are revolved around fire, in some way or another; I think it's a big clue, and it can't be discounted."

"Then you happen to know of a guy with a name, or a trait, with fire, right?"

"Flame," Havoc cocked an eyebrow, almost confused by the correction. Falman wet his dry lips, took a deep breath, and prepared himself, "The Flame alchemist, Colonel Roy Mustang." He backed away from Havoc, his head ducked. "That's the only man I can think of, and it seems the most plausible. Edward spends most of his time around the Colonel, except when he's on missions. It may seem like the most obvious choice, but he's the only one that fits." Havoc backed himself into the door. He slid down it, his butt hit the floor. He seemed to stare aimlessly then, looking at Falman's legs, or rather, through them. He wasn't even there.

"So…" he began, "that's what you meant, when you said it wasn't something we could safely discuss. You already knew the answer…."

"I couldn't bring myself to say it right out, and I knew that someone like you needed the evidence to back it up. That's why I dragged it out for you, so that you would hopefully be able to understand the reasoning behind it."

"…And why you didn't let Breda come here."

"He's not as open-minded as you are; I knew he wouldn't be able to take the news, so I didn't let him in on it. But, I guess I made a mistake in telling you, but I couldn't tell anyone else, I needed someone else to find out." Falman he sighed resignedly, glancing down at him. "And since you were on this case, I thought you deserved to know."

"You didn't think I would have something against this?"

"Actually, no," he scowled, "I honestly didn't peg you for a homophobe."

"And you're surprised? Surprised that a guy, who spends most of his time trying to pick up girls, would be against homosexuality or that Ed is…."

Falman lowered himself to his knees, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Without homosexuality, there would be fewer girls for you to pick up." He smiled hopefully, "Come and sit back down, please?"

Havoc looked into him, then finally, letting a breath escape, "alright." A little smile perked on his lips. Satisfied, Falman stood up to let him pass. As Havoc sat down, he reached for his chest pocket, but Falman put his hand on his, smiling.

"Don't bother. I'll make you a cup of tea."

-/\*_;)(-

He gripped his green shirt as he stepped out of the phone box. The skin tugged with each step, he gritted his teeth before leaning against the box. He looked about him, his eyes widened in awe.

Sky scrapers towered around him, straight cuboids, void of grand stone exterior, built only with sheet metal and windows to take in all the nature they could get in the urban scene. His eyes followed up the build of a sky scraper; looking up into the sky, a white stream of smoke followed behind a bird of sorts, small from where he stood, with stiff unflappable wings. He narrowed his eyes and shielded them from the sun, gleaming off the bird's metal surface.

"W-What is that…?" he murmured to himself.

'That would be a plane.' A young voice laughed behind him. He turned sharply to find Mouse stood inside the phone box, 'formerly known as the flying machine.'

"A machine…flying? That's incredible!" He grinned down at Mouse.

'You don't have planes in your time?' Mouse tilted his head.

"Of course not! I've never seen anything like it in my life!" He looked back up to the plane, following its white smoke trail.

'What about the Nebuchadnezzar? We might call it a ship, but it's not sailing.' Mouse smiled simply, 'only in the air. It's more advanced then that plane.' He pointed up towards the plane as it disappeared behind a cloud.

A soft vibration coursed out from his pocket, his hand dropped into it, almost instinctively. Bringing out the cell phone, he glared at the screen, 'Incoming call', and pressed the green symbol. He held it to his ear and awaited the voice.

'_Hey bud, you made it fine I hear?' _

"Sorry, who is this?" He narrowed his eyes, curious.

'_You know me! Dozer! Ya friendly neighbourhood operator!' _A static laugh echoed into his ear.

"I think I'll take your word for it. Now, down to business: which way to the hotel?" He growled seriously.

'_Take you're right down the street, cross over and I'll give ya more direction from there.' _Dozer explained, taking on a more serious tone.

"Right, thanks." Roy nodded. The phone let out a long bleep and he returned it to his pocket.

'Which way?' Mouse asked.

"Down the street." Turning to Mouse, he pointed to the right of him, and they started towards their destination, Roy limped a little as an ache thrummed from his wound.

-/\*_;)(-

The steam seemed like a poor excuse for his usual smoke; white, pure, promising when he needed something grey, thick and lingering to cool his nerves, though he didn't want to forget. It only seemed right the memory lingered in the fibre of his clothes like everything else; instead it swept into his nose with an herbal flare and a taste less disdainful than his favourite sticks of stress relief.

Taking a sip from his steaming cup, the liquid burnt his tongue and he placed the cup on the table before him, screwing up his face. As he looked down into the cup, the steam still swelled from the tea's surface.

He let out a breath, his hands joined together in his open lap, his fingers linked. His thoughts trailed, throbbed in his head, but the urge to give up seemed all too tempting. With information like this, was it really worth it? He frowned, the pieces had to fit; somehow, they just had to.

From his dipped head, he peered up at Falman as he took a tentative sip of his own cup of tea and frowned as the man placed his own cup back on the table, giving Havoc an odd look.

"Are you alright? Havoc?"

"Yeah, I am, but…"He straightened, letting out a sigh as he folded his arms, "I don't know, when I decided we should read his diary… I expected to find out where he might have gone to, not _this_."

"Well, diaries _are_ private for a reason." Falman frowned, "but, in the end it was necessary." "I guess, it just seems hard, this situation. I mean, would I really be able to look at Ed in the same way after this?"

Falman's face hardened then, "and how do you think Edward feels? It's going to be a lot harder for him then it will be for you."

He leaned back into his lap, "I'm sorry…" he sighed finally.

Falman glared at him then, confused, "what do you mean?"

"For the… _homophobe _thing," Havoc growled, a little impatiently, "now that I think about it, I don't really see anything wrong with it. If the guy's a generally good person then it shouldn't matter what his preferences are. But, when it's someone like Ed, then it does seem hard to take in. I mean, we've known him for years," a scowl set in his face, "well, at least I _thought _we did."

"Havoc, if I deciphered the rest of this diary, do you think you would be willing to read it all?" Falman asked, picking up the diary and flicking through the pages.

"I guess so." Havoc nodded.

"I think it would help you to see things from Edward's perspective, so that you can at least gain some sympathy for his situation." Falman smiled a little.

"Alright, I'll give it a shot." Havoc returned his smile, "are you sure you can do it though? It is pretty hard, and it's going to take you a long time."

"Nonsense," Falman chuckled, "now that we have some meaning behind the code, it shouldn't take too long. Although, I do admit it will take a while to write each day down, making sure the translation's right…" he scratched the back of his neck, "it'll probably take me a few days."

"Then please don't go to the trouble-." He waved his hands.

"I want to, and I think you'll be better off if I do."

Havoc sighed, smiling, "then I guess there's nothing I can do to stop you?"

"Nope, nothing." Falman smiled back.

He released his smile, his gaze settled down at his feet, "you know, after all this, it's a shame that we haven't found what we're looking for. We don't have a clue where he's gone."

"That may be true, but…" Falman picked the diary back up, and opened it to the last entry, "we do have some clue." His eyes skimmed down the page before he passed it to Havoc, who took it out of his hands reluctantly, "in the last entry, there doesn't seem to be any evidence of Edward planning to leave again. After all, he had just returned from Xenotime a couple of days before and, from what we know of the Colonel, he hadn't prepared another mission for Edward after that."

"That's true," Havoc closed up the book, failing to see where Falman's explanation fit into the cryptic entry that was before him. "But this thing for the Colonel seems a little irrelevant, don't you think?" Falman shook his head then in disagreement.

"It's very relevant. I've already told you that, when it comes to a missing person's case, not to discount motives of…" he gazed away, his face heating up before his eyes met Havoc's again, "…love; that's exactly what we're dealing with." He said firmly. "From what I've read of the other entries, whenever Edward comes back from a mission, he doesn't leave Central until he is given another mission. He'll be away for a few days, he'll come back with nothing and the pattern starts over again."

"I see." Havoc nodded, "so you're saying that Edward's _thing _for the Colonel is a little obsessive, right?"

"You would be the same if you had a girlfriend." Falman returned, "But, at first glance, that's what it looks like, well, when you know about his… _thing _as you've so eloquently put it. But to the untrained eye, he's simply bored with nothing else to do until his next mission rolls around. But this is actually a very crucial point. If he has no motive for wanting to leave and if he had no _intention _to do so in the first place, then…" Falman glared into his eyes, serious, Havoc's own widened, "it means he must've been _taken_."

"You mean," Havoc gulped, "he's been kidnapped…?"

"Exactly." Falman nodded.

"And the Colonel? Do you think he's been kidnapped as well?"

"It's very likely. The day he went missing, there was a direct attack on Central Headquarters from inside the building itself. Some eye witness accounts recall seeing men wearing suits and shades, and others have recalled seeing the same thing the day Edward went missing and Alphonse…." Falman shrunk away from his words a little.

"But… what if the Colonel managed to get away? I mean, there was a lot of damage to the office. That may have been enough for him to escape."

"If he's managed to escape, then there should be records of him checking into a hospital from the day he went missing. But if not, then he's been kidnapped, along with Edward."

His face creased up, his fists clenched, "But why would they target Edward, or the Colonel? It doesn't seem right!"

Falman thought on this, "I can imagine that they would've been targeted because they're both State alchemists. But their motive seems unclear."

"Maybe they operate like that mass-murderer Scar. They must've been upset with the State alchemists for what they did in Ishbal, and they want to eliminate them all." Havoc scowled.

"Then they would've killed them already, we probably would've found their bodies. Plus, if that was the case, then they would've left Alphonse alive, if they could anyway. He's not a State alchemist, so he didn't mean anything to them."

"Probably why they killed him anyway; Al would try and protect his brother if he could, so they killed him to stop him getting in the way of their plans." Havoc growled.

"Somehow," Falman frowned, "the more I think about it, the less it seems likely that they were involved with Ishbal. They may be targeting State alchemists for another reason though, but I can't see how. Their motive is still unclear."

"So all we have to do is search for a group who target State alchemists and operate in suits and shades, right? Seems easy enough, because I'm pretty sure there aren't many of _them _walking around Central." Havoc uttered sarcastically.

"They don't seem like a common group, so we'll just have to wait for them to strike again." Falman sighed, then, picking up his cup, he swigged down the last of his drink, the steam having settled. "Do you want to call it a night?"

"I guess," Havoc yawned, "It seems like we've got everything we can out of this."

Falman smiled, and getting to his feet, he walked off towards the kitchen area, placing his cup in the sink.

"What about calling the hospitals for their records; are we going to leave that 'til morning?" Havoc asked.

"Yeah, it seems too late to be bothering them now." Falman sighed, walking back towards his seat.

"We're not going to tell Breda about Edward's… _secret, _are we?"

"No, I'll think of something else if he asks." Falman smiled reassuringly.

Havoc picked up his own cup, took a swig before placing it back on the table. His eyes settled on the piles of papers, and he smirked, "what about these notes, shall we get rid of them?"

"No, I think we'll keep them here for now, I may need them for reference when I decipher the rest of the diary, but if they become irrelevant, we'll burn them, just to be safe."

Havoc nodded, giving a great gaping yawn, Falman smiled a little.

"You're welcome to sleep here if you want. I'm afraid I don't have another bed here, but I do have a free couch."

Havoc's shoulders slogged in their sockets, his eyes felt weighted as he rested into the back of his seat. "I guess I could do that." Havoc smiled, "Thanks."

Falman retreated to the other side of the room, leaving Havoc through a door at the side. He looked down into his own cup again, the brown liquid had settled from its latest jig, light, still, tranquil in its way. He picked it up, and without a second thought, drank. He screwed his face up, he hadn't realised before, but his drink had gone cold.

The sound of steps returned to the room and, in his arms, Falman was carrying a blanket, neatly folded. It almost seemed a shame to unravel it.

"I could get you a pillow as well, if you want." Falman smiled a little as Havoc untied his laces and pulled off his boots.

"No thanks, these cushions will be fine." He pulled off his jacket, and made to pull off his shirt as well, but his arms gave up. His head met with the arm of the sofa, he put his feet up at the other side, and he pulled the blanket over him, having shaken it out before. He rearranged a cushion behind his head, before finally settling back.

Falman stood over him, smiling, but he let out a breath, sitting at the edge of the sofa where Havoc's stomach was vaguely shaped out by the blanket.

"Havoc?" he asked, but he didn't meet Havoc's gaze, not if he could help it, "have you ever… well… _loved _someone, so much that… it hurt, but… you felt unable to tell her?"

Havoc stared at him oddly, his eyes widened, but he let them soften, and he smirked a little, "I'm sure we've all had that happen to us at one point or another."

"I'm asking if you _personally _have." He worked his jaw.

He glanced away from him, concentrating instead on the ceiling of the apartment.

"Yeah, but I know she won't go out with me, even if I tried. I guess I've just got no choice but to get over it." He sighed. He glanced back to Falman, hoping it was the right answer. Falman smiled in response, and stood up from his seat.

"Sympathizing with Ed should be easier than I first thought."

He rolled over to the side, staring then into the back of the sofa. The footsteps faded slightly, and he heard a click before the back seemed to disappear from view. He could still feel it against his cheek though, soft, if a little scratchy.

He could feel his cheeks heat, it collected at his eyes. A sporadic hiccup went through his chest and he had to clench his mouth shut. Something wet rolled down his cheek, he let out a breath, a gasp. He shut his mouth again, tried physically to hold it back, each sob wretched through his body. He pressed his face into the back of the sofa, hoping to muffle the sounds; letting his whimpers empty into the padded back.

-/\*_;)(-

He stood casually by the door, his hands in his pockets. He looked about him, eyes narrowed, cautious. People passed him on the street, wearing business suits, carrying suitcases, a woman jogging gently, a cyclist on the other side of the street. His eyes fell on each tired face, innocent victims of the daily wear-and-tear. Their eyes, to him, seemed clouded. They knew nothing of the world outside their own existence, and somehow, it gave him a smug look.

_I know something you don't know. _

He glanced at the door, peering into the glass that was set in the wood. He could see the desk, no clients yet, it seemed clear, but for the woman stood behind it. She wore her blonde hair in a loose bun, some of it dangled by her eyes in a right-parted fringe while long bangs dangled by her ears; her deep blue eyes scanned something, before her arm made a recognisable movement of turning. His eyes scanned the uniform, her white shirt, black waist coat and deep red jacket; so she was meant to be there.

_So that's her, the desk clerk._

He smirked to himself, this shouldn't be a problem. He turned his head from the door, thinking carefully on the instructions, back to their position in a nearby alley.

'_Pass me your cell phone…I've put my number in your contacts under Mouse, and I've got yours. Now, if the desk clerk is making their way back to the desk, then call me so that I have time to get myself out.'_

"_Then you'll call me in case of an Agent or Envy."_

'_Will do. Oh! Do you think you could call me when you've got them away?'_

"_No, that'll be too troublesome." _

'_Ok, then I'll call you.'_

"_No! You know what, it doesn't matter. Just wait until the coast is clear and just get in there. But don't raise any suspicion if you can help it." _

'_Aye, aye, Captain Whore!'_

"_That's Colonel Whore to you!"_

He looked back in through the window. She was still there, working. He smiled to himself, grabbing hold of the door handle.

_Ok, just relax Roy; this is just like any other date. She's just another girl to pick up. This should be easy for you; you have the experience, now just relax, get in there and knock her up! Ok, no, bad idea, but you know what you mean. You're the Hero of Ishbal for god sakes! This should be a cake walk! Ok, desk, drink, date, desk; simple pattern. You can do it!_

He pushed the door open, and walked smoothly through. With a practised smile on his face, his hands returned to his pockets. He glanced about the foyer. Simple yellow wall paper, tacky waiting-room paintings, tables and chairs set behind the columns, a janitor and… the desk. He fixed his eyes on her. She looked up from her book, locked in his dark gaze. A blush fell on her cheeks. A cold feeling prickled on his skin. Doesn't she look familiar?

He stopped at the desk, smiling broadly at her. She glanced quickly down to the pages. She brushed the hair from out of her eyes, trying to tuck some behind her ear, but it flopped back in place, too short to behave itself. She looked back up from the book, her eyes scanned his features; he could feel her curious irises taking in each skin cell.

'Oh! Erm, sorry!' she said quickly, 'may I ki-?' she stopped herself quickly, hand over mouth, a blush flared on her cheeks. 'Oh, I'm sorry; I'm all over the place today.'

"It's quite alright." He chuckled softly, "Please, take your time." He offered.

'Thanks,' she returned, she glanced away then, looking serious, muttering under her breath, before turning back to him, 'Right, erm… yes! Are you booking in today?' She regained some composure, glad that she had remembered what to say.

"No, but I would like to make a reservation. There are rooms left though, aren't there?" he asked.

She thought for a moment, but giggled then, 'of course, I can just check can't I? Sorry, excuse me.' She looked down quickly into her book, her face getting redder. Her fingers followed along the lines; she flicked to another page, doing the same. 'We do appear to have some rooms left.' She looked back up to him, smiling. 'What kind of room would you like?' she nodded, somewhat pleased with her memory.

"It's not for me, it's for a friend. He said a room with a single bed would be fine. He's not going to be in the city for long anyway."

'Would he like the en-suite bathroom to come with a shower or a bath?" she smiled.

"Oh, he's not particularly choosy. A shower would be fine, although, if you really want to run the water for that long, you might want to think about the water bill." He chuckled; she looked at him oddly, before giggling.

'Ha ha, oh I get it! Sorry, I meant shower cubicle, or, bath tub, well, you know what I mean, r-right?'

"Yes." He smiled, "the shower will be fine. And, how much will the room cost, if he was staying for three nights?" He asked, the smile still on his face.

'That will be….' She looked around the desk and, pulling up a sheet, smiled, '$430. Now, will you be paying by cash or credit?'

"He'll pay when he gets here, what room number will he be in?"

'270…oh, what name shall I put it under?' she quickly grabbed a pen and bent over the book.

"Richard Kiger." He smiled.

'Erm…Is that Kiger with a K?' She looked up from the book, a little confused.

"Yes and the rest is I-G-E-R." she scribbled down the rest of the name, "Do you need the date too?"

'No.' she straightened herself up, smiling brightly, 'I always make sure I know the date, because my boss will shout at me if I don't. I'm on an internship you see, I'm in training.' She giggled.

"Training?" he raised his eyebrows, "he must think you're very mature to let you man the desk yourself." His voice curled over the words smoothly.

She blushed at his comment, 'Oh, I'm not really. We're just a little short-handed right now; he mostly just thinks I'm ditzy.'

"You don't seem ditzy at all. More worn out if anything; he must run you ragged." His face softened.

'Well,' she looked around her before leaning over the desk towards him, 'he gives me so many cleaning jobs to do, so many I have to write them down; makes me clean all around the Hotel, top to bottom, and then he has the nerve to complain if I get one little thing wrong!' she glared at him in a shade of disgust, as if he were the caster of chores.

"The nerve of the man!" he chuckled.

'I know, right? The fat, pompous-!'

A vibration coursed through his pocket. He almost jumped on the spot. A loud ringing filled the air; the desk clerk stared at him, apologetic.

'Erm, I think your phone's ringing…?' she pointed down to his crotch. It clicked then.

He reached into his pocket, pulled out the cell phone, and pressed the green button.

"Sorry, I'm going to have to take this." He pressed it to his ear, waiting on a voice, "…Hey _Dick_." He grinned pleasantly, loudly, "Yeah, where are you? ...Me? Waiting for you to get over here…" he frowned then, "Of course I did, you know, you should do this yourself once in a while…" his mood didn't soften, "Why aren't you here now?" he scowled a little, "…Can't you get a cab?" a smirk came up on his face, " …Then you're going to be screwed for the room price… You're looking at $430," he chuckled a little, couldn't hide the satisfaction, "No, that's you're problem…" he sighed finally, "look, just wait for me and _then _you can go to the book store…" he gave an exasperated frown, "it's not that hard, how many times have I told you to be patient?" he cast a sarcastic look, "…ha, very funny…" he scowled, "No, whore _yourself _out for money. Teach you to save up for once… with that price, your clients should pay for $30 a shake, $50 a job, and at least $100 a ride, right? They should pay extra for every bird…" he frowned, "I give pocket money to good boys, not brats like you." He looked over at the desk clerk, she glared at him, he smiled apologetically, "lucky there's still chance for you to get in my good book…" he chuckled, "of course it's great, I practically hand out money then… since I got that bank account…" he checked the clock of the foyer, "look, you've got to get to work in 10, 15 minutes. So get a move on kid…" he sighed finally, "geez, you're 19, I shouldn't have to babysit you every second. Look, I have to go, I'll see you at home…" he hung up, and dropped the cell phone into his pocket, smiled pleasantly at her. "Sorry about that, that was Richard or Dick on special occasions."

'Was that a special occasion?' she giggled.

"Most definitely." He propped his elbows back on the desk, leaned over the desk and gave her an airy smile.

She glanced aside, her cheeks turning pink, 'sorry,' she smiled and turned her face back to his, holding out her hand, 'Sarah Roswell.'

He straightened up, and offered his own to shake hers, "Tom, Tom Anderson." He smiled, "I think it's time that your boss let you off for a break; when does your shift end?"

She looked up towards the foyer clock, 'h-half an hour, I think.'

"Has anyone been here in the last hour?"

'Apart from you, no one.' She answered.

"I reckon there's a café somewhere on this street, how about a coffee?" he grinned.

She looked at him, almost alarmed, a deer in headlights, 'b-but I'll get in trouble with my boss! I'll get thrown off the internship!'

"Don't worry," he chuckled, "by the time you get back to your desk, it won't matter." He offered his hand again, smiling hopefully. She stared at the hand, then back at him, then at the hand again.

'No!' she turned away from his hand, his offer, 'I mustn't leave my post!'

He frowned, then, as she turned to face him again, he sighed heavily, "I'm sorry, Sarah," he began, "I'm afraid I haven't been entirely honest with you."

She glared at him, her eyes wide, '…what? What do you mean you haven't been honest?'

"I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to answer that question," his face turned serious, but a small smile appeared on his lips, reassurance, "but I will be, once we leave the premises. Then, I'll be able to answer any questions you may have, do you understand?"

She nodded, 'but why are you telling me this?'

"You have an honest face," he smiled, "you look like someone who can keep a secret. But, if I tell you, you'll have to swear_ never_ to tell anyone. But, somehow, I think I can trust you. Can I?" he raised an eyebrow pointedly.

As he offered his hand again, she looked down at it, then back to him. She nodded quickly. She reached out and grasped it. His smile widened, and he led her out, hand in hand, her body close to his.

-/\*_;)(-

_He looked up at Morpheus, who was stood, pondering over the plan._

'_Somehow, it doesn't seem like the best approach. It's an offensive move to say that the deal is tomorrow, and it carries too much risk.'_

_ "I realize that, but from what I'd heard, you didn't have any plan. From the position we're in now, it's better than nothing."_

_ 'Maybe,' Neo growled, 'but I doubt he told you about Envy, or the fact that he can transform into anyone!' _

_ "Then it's a risk I'm willing to take," Roy countered smoothly, "I doubt that Envy has seen me before, so if I were to go into the Matrix, he wouldn't suspect me, especially if I wore civilian clothing and used an alias."_

_ 'Who will you be taking in to retrieve the room number?' Morpheus asked sternly._

_ "I'll take Ed-." Roy nodded towards Edward, but Morpheus quickly shook his head._

_ 'No, absolutely not; Edward and I have already decided that he should stay well away from the Matrix. Besides, after his stint in the Beta-Matrix before, he can't be fully trusted to follow my orders.' He glared down at Edward, who turned away from his gaze, the back of his neck heated with guilt._

_ 'I'll go.' Neo said firmly._

_ 'No, Envy has already seen you. You would just be a burden to the mission.' Morpheus admonished. Neo turned his gaze away from him, folding his arms._

_ "Then Mouse will be the next best option. He didn't participate in the simulation, so there's no way that Envy will know who he is." On the sound of his name, Mouse got out of his seat and stepped forward, and stood by Morpheus._

_ 'Except that Mouse saw the video link that Envy sent to us, so he may still remember him.' Morpheus frowned._

_ "Then that's another risk we'll have to take." Roy nodded._

_ 'C-Couldn't we just search the records from our monitor here?' Mouse suggested._

_ "We could, but that depends on whether the hotel keeps its records on a monitor, and if they did, then I'm sure you would've tried to search for it by now, right?" Roy smirked. _

_ Mouse's face turned a rosy colour; he scratched the back of his neck, 'well…w-would it be possible if we er…switched roles? You could get the information and I could get the clerk away. I-I don't really work well under pressure.' He grinned a little, his brows knitted._

_ Roy sighed, "In my experience, hotels usually keep their records written down in a registry book, in which case you should be fine. But, if they are indeed using monitors, then you should be able to search the records. I don't know anything about monitors, so we need to be prepared in case they're using one." He got up slowly from his chair and clapped a hand on Mouse's shoulder, the other holding his wound. "Besides, as I recall, you're an expert computer programmer, so you're the best for the job." _

_ 'So,' Switch sighed, 'Is that the plan?'_

_ 'Seems so,' Morpheus nodded before turning to Roy, 'both of you, once you get into the construct, change into civilian clothing and take a cell phone with you. We'll be your eyes and contact you to give you directions to the hotel and to warn you of any Agents.' _

_ "Right." Roy smiled._

'_And just to be safe,' his hand went for his trouser pocket, 'this is a sketch of Envy when he's not transformed into someone else.' He pulled out the piece of paper and handed it to Roy, who glanced over and nodded._

"_Impressive drawing skills." He smiled, "I'll keep an eye out for him." He handed the paper back to Morpheus. As Roy turned towards the seats, something halted his movement. He looked down to his arm to find the digits of a plastic hand gripping his shirt sleeve. He turned to Edward, "What's wrong?"_

_ His cheeks flared, and he turned his gaze aside, "I-I'm just worried. I don't think you've healed enough to carry out this mission. I mean, y-you almost died!"_

_ Roy chuckled softly, and ruffled his hair. _

_ "I'll be alright. If everything goes as planned, then we won't have to face the Agents. Just wish me luck, ok?" _

_ Edward nodded firmly; a small smile lit his face._

_Gripping his wound, he stumbled forwards and laid himself down into a fur-lined seat. Mouse strapped his feet and wrists down to their rests while Edward reached out for the jack._

_ "You're not going to struggle this time?" Edward smirked._

_ "The first time's always hard; the second time's still a little new, but the third time's easy street." He chuckled. _

_ His eyes wandered from Roy's, who eyed him oddly, he neared his face closer, and his mouth migrated close to his ear. His eyes widened, he caught Edward's gaze. He smiled back. He pushed in the jack, his body stiffened, the darkness claimed him suddenly._

Good luck.

-/\*_;)(-

Leaning against the wall, he looked out into the street, dared to watch the people go by. He neared the edge of the alley, glanced around the corner, dared to peruse the entrance. The doors were suddenly pushed open, he recognised Roy's black hair, and caught the sight of a blonde head bobbing beside him. A smirk rose on his lips, he waited as their steps disappeared down the street and, slowly, he stepped out from his alleyway.

As the couple turned into another building, minutes passed before a vibration rose in his pocket. He answered its silent call, pressed it to his ear as a deep voice spoke.

"_The desk clerk's shift ends in half an hour. That should be enough time to get the room number we need. Remember, we want the rooms that are dated two days before now, that's when they'll have booked in."_

'Roger that.' Mouse nodded.

"_And for goodness sake keep an eye out for the Agents or Envy!"_

'Keep your tank top on, I will.' Mouse sniggered.

"_Just don't mess this up, we've got a lot riding on this." _The voice growled.

'Don't worry about it. You can count on me.' He smiled. He hung up the cell phone, returned it to his pocket, and turned towards the hotel doors, grabbed the brassy handle and pushed them open.

-/\*_;)(-

He replaced the cell phone back into his pocket. His eyes strolled around for her, found their table and made it through the fleet. The queue, growing larger and heading for the counter, the seats slowly filling up, and the bodies that packed the spaces between that carried trays to their respective tables. He dodged past them with a smooth ease as he made his way towards a back corner where she waited patiently at her table.

"Sorry about that, I just needed to make a call," as he met her gaze, he smiled, pulled his seat back and sat down. He looked down towards the growing line, and groaned as he turned back to her, "It looks like it'll be a while before we get any coffee, do you mind?" he asked, nodding towards the queue.

'I don't mind.' She shook her head, smiling still. A blush rose on her cheeks, 'so, this isn't a date, is it?' she tipped her head a little.

He chuckled lowly, "If you want it to be, but for all intent and purposes, it is." He smiled.

'Good, I'm glad it isn't. I already have a boyfriend and I wouldn't want to think I was cheating on him.'

"I should've known you would already be taken." He gave a mock look of disappointment.

She glanced aside from him, her fingers laced in her lap, 'I'm sorry, I haven't been honest with you either.'

An eyebrow rose in curiosity, his smile playful, "really? How so?"

'Well, when I said I was on an internship, I meant that I was 16.' her brows knitted apologetically.

"I would never have guessed." He chuckled, "you look more mature than a 16 year old." He offered.

'I just didn't want you to get the wrong idea, in case you had…something else in mind.' The blush grew on her cheeks, reaching into her hairline.

"Trust me, the boyfriend was warning enough." He chuckled.

'Not to mention the authorities might have something to say about it.' she giggled.

"Speaking of authorities," he sighed finally, "what I'm about to tell you is strictly confidential, as I've said before."

'Then why are we talking about this in a café?' she asked, looking about her as the café seemed to get more crowded by the minute, 'won't someone overhear us?'

"Good question," he smiled, "but you see, while it's busy like this, it's also noisy, which means that if anyone _was _trying to overhear our conversation, they wouldn't be able to make out much." He leaned in towards her, propping his elbows up on the table, "and if we speak low like this, then no one will hear us at all, and while the café's busy, we blend in perfectly as, say…" he searched for a phrase, "a couple on a date, friends meeting each other, or at a stretch, a father and daughter meeting for lunch. We'll be able to talk about anything now." His smile deepened.

She nodded, leaning in towards him, leaving her hands in her lap, 'so, what did you mean, when you said you hadn't been entirely honest?'

He glanced away from her, his gaze searched along the cluster of people at their tables, laughing, drinking their steaming mugs, picking at muffins. The line moved along at a steady pace, getting shorter before a group joined the line and restored the queue to its former length.

_Think Roy, you got her here, but you still have to buy time for Mouse!_

His eyes narrowed, face creased, his fingers laced together. His eyes darted along the crowd, she leaned in closer, and her smile waned.

'Tom?'

He turned back to her, he set his hands on the table, glared into her, "What if I was to tell you, that I was a part of the…" his voice dropped low, she had to lean in further over the hustle, "secret services?"

Her mouth fell open, the words creaked out on a whisper, 'you mean, like an _agent_?'

A smile rose on his lips, "yeah," he nodded, "something like that."

-/\*_;)(-

His eyes fell straight on the desk, straight onto his goal. No borders were set between him and the secrets it contained, the hidden data would open up to him, and a smirk perked on his lips; nothing to it.

_Easier to hack into than a Windows 97. _

He made to walk, but something caught him, he narrowed his eyes and he gazed about him. No one in the foyer, no one waiting for the desk clerk, but something caught his gaze. Near a column, a cleaning trolley stood, he recognized the grainy slits of the strainer where the mop would stand, if it was there. He frowned and gave a heavy sigh.

_Ok, no more distractions. Who knows how long it will be before someone comes back for the trolley, or how long until Roy can't keep the clerk away any longer? Shit Mouse, concentrate!_

He strolled for the desk, stepping forward in a speed close to a run. His stomach twisted, almost wretched, a hint of nausea settled and his hands shook. He'd made it to the desk before a cold feeling bristled along his skin, footsteps echoed along the floor. Water splashed, he turned his head sharply. A man dressed in blue overalls, overweight and wearing a cap; the man didn't glance his way, but he ran and ducked behind the desk before the opportunity arose.

He gripped the desk's edge, and pulled himself up against the weight in his stomach. The book was there, open, right in front of him. He settled into a crouch, and peered over the ledge of the desk. Before him, the door was in clear view and he smiled for the relief it gave, the clarity and seeming future-sight on equal footing with the Oracle herself. He glanced towards the cleaning trolley, the man still wielded his mop and he watched for seconds as he drew it across the shiny floor with a mix of clouded water and bubbles. The stench of bleach carried across the air and stung the back of his throat.

He looked back down at the desk surface, his eyes widened then. The book was laid open, right at the present date; his eyes fell onto the last booking, _Room 270, Mr. R. __Cee __ Kiger. _He took a hold of the left page, and flicked it right, found its date, and turned again. His eyes drew along the page, his smile faded, his face dropped.

_Shit!_

-/\*_;)(-

'You're kidding, right?' she laughed, clutching her sides, 'You? An agent? That's ridiculous!'

He pushed a finger to his lips, "Shhh!" he scowled, and "you'll undermine the whole operation!" he hissed.

'There's no need to lie, you're just trying to impress me, right?' she giggled before letting out a sigh, 'I'm sorry, but I already told you, I have a boyfriend. I've got to be getting back now, I'm sure you can tell me all about this agent thing some other time.' She stood up from her seat and made to leave the table.

_Shit! Not yet!_

He stood over the table, grabbed her wrist and pulled her back. She fell back into her seat with surprise. Tears sprung in her eyes and she stared up at him, looming over her now.

'What are you...?'

"What is it going to take to prove that I'm telling the truth?" he growled lowly.

She glanced aside, glancing at the floor, then to her wrist, and then back at him. He held her gaze with a fierce glare.

'Hey, is that man giving you a hard time?' She looked straight up to him. A tall suited man stood by their table, having gotten up from his own. His grey steely gaze held Roy's and he slowly released her wrist. He glanced from the man, and held her gaze.

She caught his gaze, perked her lips at the side and straightened up in her seat. As Roy regained his seated position, she looked up at the suited man, and gave a little smile.

'No, I'm fine, thanks for your concern.' She nodded.

'Ok, but if he gives you anymore trouble-.'

'Then I'll let you know. I'm sure I can take care of myself.' She smiled.

'Well, if you say so….' He sighed, the suited man sat back in his seat, held a fierce gaze in Roy's direction, before turning back to his equally suited colleagues.

"Tell me," he growled, "how I can prove that I'm telling the truth?"

She thought on this for a few moments, before leaning forward and whispering, 'let me see your gun.' His eyes widened at the mention, and he glanced away from her big blue eyes. She straightened up a little, blushing then. 'A-and your shades; if you have those, then I'll believe you.' She faced him then.

He leaned in, "I can't just bring a gun out in public, it would cause unwanted attention and panic." He hissed.

'Then I guess you're not an agent after all.' She sighed and made to stand.

"Wait!"

The suited man turned around in his seat, 'come on man, if she wants to go then let her!'

"It's none of your business!" he countered.

'Don't take it hard just because she turned you down!' the suited man smirked.

He dipped his hand in his jacket pocket, and brought something out and laid them on the table. She took notice, and lowered herself back into her seat.

"Are you done?" He growled at the suited man, who flinched at his glare and turned back in his seat.

She picked them up, and placed them on her face, 'so these are your shades?' she smiled; now grinning at him through the darkened glass. His black hair seemed to vanish in the vision they purveyed and his dark eyes stood out from the blurry white shape of his face; everywhere around him was a new dark world of over accentuated shadows, creeping further from their corners. A blurry white shape came up in front of her face and gently seized the bridge of the frames.

"Yes," he smiled, "but I don't like to wear them on covert missions. They make me look suspicious; make me stand out." She nodded in some form of comprehension. He carefully unhooked them from her ears and placed them back on the table, folded.

'And the-?' he interrupted her with a finger placed on his lips. His hand slunk from his face and under the table. It weaved back behind him; hitched up and curled back round along his hip. He pulled his chair forward and his shoulder dropped.

She felt it then, something cool stroking against her leg and moving up to her knee. Her eyes widened, she gasped, her body shook. He held her gaze and pointed downwards. It stroked along the top of her thigh, nearing closer, until it rested in her lap. Carefully, she leaned back in her seat and glanced into her lap.

It lay between the dip of her legs, the barrel pointed towards her, his fingers still settled on the grip. Smatters of light reflected from the black shining metal, and along her skin, made visible from the darkness beneath the table.

She glared back at him, 'so, you _are _an agent?' the coolness retracted from her leg and she watched as his arm wove around to set it back in its holster.

"Ah, so _now_ you believe me." He chuckled.

'Sorry for doubting you before,' she glanced away from him, 'I just, had to be sure.'

"That's alright, I get that a lot." He waved away her concern.

'So, why are you at the hotel? Is it a super-secret mission?' a grin curled up on her lips, 'is my boss dealing crack?' she giggled.

He chuckled at her assumptions.

_Actually, why am I at the hotel? _

"Nothing like that, as such. It's more of a routine inspection of your hotel, except I'm not here to inspect how well you keep the rooms clean, or whether the foods good, nothing like that." He sighed, "The truth is, we don't know what kind of crimes your boss might be involved in, but it would be the sort of thing we'd look for. Basically, if any of your colleagues or clients were involved in criminal activities, then my job would be to call in back-up and arrest the perpetrators before it got out of control."

'I see,' she nodded, 'give me an example.' She asked, smiling.

He cupped his chin between his thumb and forefinger, pouting a little, before nodding, "Let's say, there's a group of men, let's call them kidnappers."

'Ok,' she nodded.

"Now let's say they're holding someone in their room, we'll call her the victim; they could be doing anything to her in there," he indicated each on his fingers, "torture, drugging, rape, anything."

'That's awful!' she exclaimed, 'and they could be doing that right now? In the hotel?' her eyes clouded with panic. She made to move, but he caught her quickly, expecting it.

"Calm down, it's only an example." He growled, and she took her seat easily. "They could be doing this, and if they are, then my job would be to find out where they're holding her and the best plan of action to take."

'So, how do you find out about it all?' she asked.

"We don't know, that's the problem.' He frowned, holding his head in his hand, "but that's where I come in. I go into the hotel, make myself out to be a client and carry out investigations from there. If I catch onto any suspicious activity that I think alludes to some sort of criminal activity, it's then that I call HQ and let them know."

'Oh, so that's why you were booking in your friend, Richard Kiger?' she tilted her head, 'is he one of your colleagues?'

"You could say that." He smiled, "in fact, I wouldn't be surprised if he's over there now. That's why I had you finish your shift early."

'If you told me what was going on, I wouldn't have needed to leave. I could have stayed and done my job as if I didn't know a thing.' She frowned.

"No," he shook his head, "that wouldn't have worked. You would have raised suspicions. Well, that and he needed some space to _move_."

Her eyes narrowed in thought, she gasped then, they widened and she stared at him, 'the register.' She uttered, 'I'm not allowed to hand out that kind of information, so you needed him to take it while I was gone.'

"Exactly." He smirked, "it may seem like I've tricked you, but I had to do my job. You've already said that you would've let us investigate if you knew all this beforehand, so you shouldn't have a problem with this. By being here now, you're actually being a great help to the investigation."

She turned from his steady gaze; let them wander back slowly, before nodding.

'But the kidnappers, what if they're onto you?'

"They may _already_ be onto us. They'll be looking for any suspicious activity of their own, trying to stay out of our grasps as much as possible. But, as far as stereotypical kidnappers go, it's not unheard of for them to try and make deals with us; a transaction that allows them to get what they really want."

She leaned in, 'But they already have what they want,' she straightened up a little, a look of hurt on her face, 'don't they?'

"No, most of the time, kidnappings are made specifically for these deals. The victim is often chosen because she might be the heiress to some fortune, or related to someone who can get them drugs, money, weapons, the works, and sometimes, the victims aren't even female. As long as the victim has enviable connections, they are often prime targets."

'Is the victim a prime target then?' she asked.

"She must be, but we're not sure why. We haven't yet received any contact from the kidnappers, which is a little worrying, considering she was taken two days ago." He thought for a moment, "Did someone check into the hotel two days ago? Did they look suspicious?" he asked quickly.

'Sorry, I don't know; I wasn't working that day.' She sighed, shaking her head.

"That's a shame." He frowned, before taking out his cell phone, "I don't normally do this, usually I ask citizens to call the police, but I'll make an exception with you." He clicked on a few of the buttons, his face screwed up in concentration, before he slammed it to the table, frustrated, "sorry, I'm not used to this cell phone, can you retrieve the cell phone's number and write it down?"

'Uh huh.' She smiled; she took up the cell phone, grabbed a napkin and took a pen from out of her pocket. Focussing on the screen, she poised her pen ready before scribbling down the digits.

"You got it all down?" he asked, before she nodded, "keep that with you, then if you or any of your colleagues notice anything suspicious, you can call me on that number. You should get straight through to my cell phone, and I'll leave it on in any case. You should get a hold of me straight away."

'Thank you, that does put my mind at ease.' She smiled, folded the napkin carefully and placed it in her suit pocket.

"It would also be helpful if you refrained from handing out that number. Goodness knows what would happen if the kidnappers got their hands on it."

'Ok, I won't.' she smiled, she watched as his gaze went from her to the café clock.

"Say, what time does your shift end?" not tearing his eyes away from the clock face.

'10 past 12 usually.' Came her answer.

"Then my colleague has 10 minutes before someone will come to replace you. We can wait here until then." He smiled.

She looked away, then back to him, her smile faded, 'erm, when this is over, do you think you could…?'

He glanced at her curiously, before lifting his chin, his smile deepened, "Once we've wrapped up this case, I'll call your boss and let him know about the situation. Don't worry, I'll make sure you don't get fired for this."

She dipped her head respectfully, 'Thank you.' She murmured.

"That's quite alright. You're doing a service for us after all." As she straightened up, he looked out towards the lower level, before turning back to her, "The queue's gone down. Do you want to get a coffee now?"

'Yes please.' She nodded, 'I'd love some.'

The couple rose out of their seats, and as they came to the steps, her hand swayed into his. His smile deepened, though he didn't turn her way.

_All according to plan_

-/\*_;)(-

His eyes darted along all of them. Sweat gathered at his brow. The page quivered beneath his hands. The word fell out of him on a harsh whisper, 'shit!' he ducked quickly then. He peered over the ledge of the desk, waiting on a stilled breath; the man still dragged his mop across the floor, doing so with an audible squeak.

He crawled under the desk. Reaching up, he grabbed the book and pulled it under with him. He scrambled for the page; shut his eyes, taking in heavy, deep breaths before opening them again. He read down each booking, none of them he recognised but the date was correct.

His hand went shakily for his pocket, dug out his cell phone and he dialled the numbers.

-/\*_;)(-

His cell phone buzzed in his pocket, a small tune rang out over the hustle as they moved forward in the queue. He pulled it out to answer.

"What's wrong?" he growled.

Sarah stared at him as his face went from a serious feature to a cocked-brow one.

"What? I'm sorr- I can't hear a word you're saying. You're going to have to speak up." His voice went low.

He covered the receiver with his palm and smiled her way, "I'm sorry, I'm going to have to take this call outside again. You can order for me, right?" he made to move, but he was stopped by a pull on his arm. He turned towards her, a little confused.

'Is that Richard who's calling you?' her brows knitted.

He glanced away from her before nodding.

'Is he going to be ok?' she persisted.

"Hopefully, I'll just have to see what he wants first."

'Alright,' she smiled a little, before letting his arm go.

"Just stay in here while you get the drinks, I won't be long." He strode away then, exiting the café, she sighed as she turned to face the counter.

-/\*_;)(-

"_Mouse, you've got less than 10 minutes, why aren't you out yet?" _the background had lost its static hush, though the reprimand would've carried through anyway. He pressed the cell phone to his ear, the book resting in his lap.

'Shhh! Quiet!' Mouse whispered harshly, 'there's a problem with the book!'

"_What do you mean?" _his voice quieter this time.

'I have the right date; I have names, but not ones we know! We are officially screwed here!'

"_You haven't got time to worry about that. Just memorise the names and rooms and get out of there!" _

'Shit, all six of them?'

"_You've got no other choice!" _

He covered his eyes, rocking on the spot and started cursing under his breath.

"_Come on Mouse, pull yourself together."_

He pulled his hand away, his eyes went straight to the page again, 'right,' he nodded quickly.

"_You have until 10 past 12," _the voice growled, _"do your best." _He hung up before placing it back in his pocket; he was left to reading it again.

_Ok, Mr Poe at 283, Mr Black at 285, Mr Gold at-_

His head quirked up; he'd expected a distraction. He didn't get one. He scooted up quietly to the desk edge, and carefully, deep breath, turned round. No distraction, the man was gone. He stilled his breath, turned to face the wall. Should he…? Should he risk it? He gulped hard. 

Creasing the corner of the page, he tucked the book beneath his shirt, cold against his skin, and turned back towards the entrance. With his hands on the floor, he pulled himself round to the side, edged himself down it.

A cold feeling bristled across his skin, coming from behind. He turned sharply to the wall. He breathed a sigh, no one there. He edged backwards, his heart thumped loudly, but bounced along with his laugh, giddy.

His back connected, he stopped. His breathing stilled. He drew a hand back shakily. His fingers curled over a hard rubber. His thumb pressed into it, hard at the toe. Steel-toe boots. A little whimper escaped his throat.

There was a rub of material, two thick knees protruded from behind him. His eyes went wide, stared at the thick rolls of trouser-covered meat, he was _between _them.

'I don't think you should be looking at that there book.' The voice boomed low beneath its throaty rasp.

He turned to face him quickly, flinched, and scrambled back on his ass. His face was so close before. The balding man stared down at him; a vein pulsed in his forehead.

'You're not even checked in in here, are ya boy? Doubt you work here either.' The man spat, a smirk played on his lips as Mouse tried to wriggle back, a cowering lilt played from his throat, 'scared, boy? Like a little worm, aren't ya boy, a little worm?' he laughed, Mouse gulped hard.

-/\*_;)(-

He sighed finally, placing the cell phone into his pocket. His hands held some homage there and he frowned a little as he looked into the streets. The sun's light blazed down on him, his body seemed to roast inside his jacket. People passing him, not unlike before, his eyes narrowed on each one, hoping to catch some familiar face or entity at least. All of them, strangers as he peered into each face, feature and style as all seemed unaware of the more important things in life; that there's did not exist.

_When will these people wake up already? Come on, drop dead already. _

But none seemed to heed his mental call, they stared through him, or out of his gaze, or at least they ignored him completely, something he'd expect them to do. Something akin to fulfilling the duty of a stranger; to remain an insignificant part of his life in the blandest way possible that he could care less to understand. All of them striding silently or blending in with the usual deafening hush with their nonsensical, mind-numbing chatter.

'A boy? Congratulations!'

'Really? A fire? I'm sorry to hear that.'

'Hate that stupid Mr Clarke, Geography sucks, let's get wasted already!'

'There you are! Hey, you'd better drink up before it gets cold.'

'Why do _I _have to wear the pink dress?'

'Hey, what's up?'

'Now, you know your big sister has been looking forward to this. She'd love it if you did.'

'Are you feeling alright?'

'I'm not fat! It's a lie and you know it!'

'…Tom?'

'I think the whole of McDonald's knows it!'

He felt a tug on his arm and he turned quickly to face it.

'Tom? Are you alright? You looked like you were spacing out there.' She smiled up at him a little; the cups balanced one on top of the other, steaming gently pooled from the top. He gave a small smile, before his face turned stern.

"I thought I told you to stay inside, I wasn't going to be long."

'I know,' she looked apologetic, 'but I didn't want yo u to have a cold drink.'

"It doesn't matter," he growled as he took the top cup off its tower, "just don't go back in to the hotel yet." He took a sip, winced from its intense heat and frowned, glanced away down the street.

'I hope Richard's ok.' She sighed, smiling.

"Your boyfriend would be sad to hear you say that." He smirked.

'Don't be silly, I haven't met him before. Besides, whatever he doesn't know can't hurt him.' she giggled.

"Why?" he blew the steam from his cup, "does he get hurt easy?" he took a sip, took a disdainful gulp as the liquid seared at his throat. 

'You could say that, well, emotionally anyway.' She sighed.

"I guess you're one of those 'nurse the pain away' types, right?" he smiled, "or maybe you like the idea of sharing make-up?" he chuckled.

'Come on, he's not _that _much of an emo.' She frowned a little, 'although, he does like Simple Plan.'

"Whoever they are." He muttered.

'Oh hey!' she craned her neck around him, looking down the street in the same direction.

"What?" he growled as he took another sip.

'That's Michael!' she grinned.

He followed her beaming glance towards a tall man in a read suit jacket. His hair was short and blond, apart from the tuft of hair that stuck out at the front. His deep blue eyes glanced about the street around him as a cigarette hung from his lips, threatening to cloud his eyes.

'He must be here for the next shift.' She smiled.

"Shit!" he cursed under his breath, "Richard's not out yet! Go on," he pushed her on from her back, "Stall him, but don't let him in the hotel!"

She looked a little lost, glancing from Michael to him, 'right', she nodded finally, and she strode towards him. She caught him in conversation, smiling, laughing, and shaking hands. Placing a hand on his back, leading him away, laughing still, and grinning. The guy, caught haplessly, grinded the last of his cigarette under his shoe and let himself be led, blushing a little at the cheeks.

_Always a sucker for the ladies, weren't you Havoc?_

-/\*_;)(-

He scrambled back even further. He was caught by the ankle. He tried to pull against it, but the man was more than just rolls of fat. The man yanked him forward, caught him by the neck. He grasped around the man's beefy hands, tried to pull them free, struggled to breathe.

'You shouldn't have come here, boy.' The man boomed.

He whimpered, his legs started to flail, tried to kick out at him. The other hand caught his ankle and flung him towards a side wall. His back slid into it. He gasped for breath. He opened his eyes wearily, yet some darkness still prevailed. He stared up into it, the figure loomed over him.

'Please!' he held his hands up, shaking, tears in his eyes, gasping, 'I-I got the wrong hotel! Just, yeah, just let me go and I'll leave! You won't see me again!' he pleaded.

'I don't trust worms.' The man loomed closer.

'Well…' he struggled for words, 'me not worm, me boy!' he laughed awkwardly.

'You are worm,' the man pointed towards his stomach, grinning.

'No!' he shook his head furiously, 'you got it all wrong!'

'There,' he jabbed the air in in a few sharp stabbing motions, 'under ya shirt.'

'Th-This?' he pointed towards the hard rectangle lodged beneath his shirt, a shaky smile on his lips, though he cursed himself inwardly.

'Yeah, worms are sneaky, give it.' He growled.

'A-And then I can go?'

'No use for worms likes you, boy.' His eyes narrowed.

'O-Ok.' He stuffed his hand up, the tips searched for the creased corner, fidgeting a little.

_Shit, where is it?_

'I said give it!' the man bellowed, the low boom echoed across the walls.

'Alright, alright!' he thrust the book out, binding first, 'here!'

Without hesitation, the man yanked it off him. A smirk then was plastered on Mouse's face, he noticed it then; something scrunched up in his hand, torn at one side. The man stared at him oddly, before opening the book.

_Now!_

He jumped to his feet. He scrunched the paper up in his hands, pushing it into his pocket. He slipped up suddenly, falling onto his ass, landing in a bubbly puddle. The man laughed then, snickered for what it was worth.

'Thought you could get away, could you boy? Sneaky, sneaky worm.'

He set his jaw; he pushed himself up, his feet slipped again. The bleach stung at his throat, he coughed. He flailed around for balance, his hand landed in the trolley. He pulled it out quickly, it splashed in his eyes, and he rubbed them madly, screaming at the burning sensation.

'Blind as a worm too.' The man sniggered.

He tried to crawl away, pulling himself forward on his elbows. The man grabbed his ankle, pulled him back. He gritted his teeth in resistance, fought against it, and tried to kick his hand away. He looked up towards the entrance door, around the blur in his sight, the liquid still stung, still seared; the light was blinding, except for a tall figure that blocked some of its entry. The figure motioned to the handle, he shook his head furiously.

He wriggled onto his back, kicked forward, got him in the face. The hand let go as the man fell back, yelled out in annoyance. He grabbed hold of the trolley with both hands and lifted it. The water weighed it down; he gritted his teeth with effort as it seemed to quake in his grip, held it above his head, his eyes tight shut.

The man staggered towards him, Mouse's face screwed up, waiting, waiting… now! He flung the trolley at him, the weight barrelled him down; the water tipped out and poured on his face. He turned quickly, got to his feet, he ran, left the screams behind.

He pushed himself out of the door, bowling into him. He gripped at the figure's jacket, tried to regain his breath, rubbed his eyes furiously to rid of himself of the burning ache.

"Did you get the names and numbers?" he growled.

'I got the page…' he breathed, 'it's in my pock- oh fucking HELL!' he yelled, he scratched at his eyes feverishly.

"Just run!" his eyes went to the entrance, "NOW!" he grabbed hold of Mouse's arm and pulled him along reluctantly. Mouse had to stagger before retaining the speed, pushing past people; one girl was knocked into a man. "Sorry!" he called over his shoulder and they ran on, with no pause for breath.

-/\*_;)(-

He opened his eyes, breathing quickly. He gripped his gut. He felt hands on his shoulders, weighing him down. He glared up at his captor, fighting back.

"It's alright," the captor gave a reassuring smile; "you're safe now."

He recognized the voice, he stopped fighting, he gave a sigh, and he seemed to relax.

"Now, hold on just a second while I-." there was a pulling force at the back of his head, his eyes widened to it, his body quivered, "there, all done." Edward grinned down at him as he started to undo the clasps.

Roy sat up slowly in his seat, smiling, muttering his thanks.

'So, the mission was a success then, Roy.' Morpheus smiled as he stood up from a wheelie chair.

"I was hoping we could complete it with as little confrontation as possible, but yes, Mouse has the information in his pocket. But I don't think the success is as straight forward as that." Roy frowned.

'Right,' Morpheus nodded, 'Mouse hasn't been brought out of the Matrix yet.' He turned towards the operator, 'Dozer, load him up into the Construct. We can view the information from there.'

'Right ho.' Dozer muttered.

Neo strode towards him, stood by Edward now, 'Tom Anderson?' he scowled, 'your alias was Tom Anderson?'

"What's crawled up your ass _this_ time? It's just a name." Roy smirked.

'You idiot, you used _my _name! Now they'll be onto us for sure!' Neo seethed.

"Come on, how was he supposed to know that?" Edward stood between him and Roy, coming to his defence.

'I'm afraid Neo is right.' Morpheus frowned, 'the Agents already recognize that as Neo's old name, and I bet that by this time, so will Envy. That was a very risky move you played, but,' he sighed, 'what's done is done. I cannot fault praise where it is due.' Morpheus smiled a little.

"Thanks," Roy smirked, "I know it was foolhardy, but Tom just seemed like a very common name, and Anderson was the first thing that came to mind."

'It was probably the first thing because the Agents will have referred to Neo as Mr Anderson many times before.' Morpheus frowned, 'just because the Agents have used it doesn't mean you should do the same.'

"Right," he had to fight his hand to keep it from saluting, causing Edward to choke back a snigger "I'll be sure to keep that in mind." Roy glanced down at Edward's twisted features for a moment, before smiling in amusement, giving him a subtle wink. The urge seemed to settle away from him then.

'Hey boss? I got Mouse on the line.' Dozer handed Morpheus the receiver.

'Mouse, what's the room number?' he asked.

'_That's the problem. Ah shit…my eyes.' _

Roy looked down on the body of Mouse beside him, the eyes beneath their lids seemed to flicker, as if he was being seized in his sleep, but around them were patches of red skin, blistering.

'We'll sort that out when you get out. What can you read of it?' Morpheus answered patiently.

'_Six rooms have been booked on that day, but none of the names look like a Smith or Envy alias, if they're using one.'_

'It's something,' Morpheus sighed; he placed a hand over the receiver and turned to Dozer, 'pass me a pen and paper please.' Dozer took out a piece of paper and a pen from beside the monitor and passed them to Morpheus, who set the paper before him and the pen in his hand. 'Ok Mouse, whenever you're ready.'

-/\*_;)(-

Morpheus climbed up to the top deck, and sighed as he sat himself down in a wheelie chair. Roy was still sat in his seat, clutching the edges. Edward stood by him, only glancing occasionally towards Roy, before settling his gaze on Morpheus. Switch and Apoc stood by the door of the cock pit, arms folded. Neo leaned against the wall behind Morpheus.

"How's Mouse?" Roy's face remained stern.

'Dozer is treating him now, but we won't know for sure until later.' He sighed, 'we'll try and flush as much of the irritation as we can, but whether his sight will remain intact is still an uncertainty.' He frowned deeply.

'What about the room number he risked his sight for?' Neo growled, Roy shot him a disgusted look, 'can we be sure it's the right one?'

'We can't be sure, because there are six numbers, and none of them nod towards a possible alias created by Agent Smith and Envy.' Morpheus picked up the paper; his eyes drew along the names he had scribbled down earlier.

'So, you got your results now _Mustang_.' Neo frowned, 'what's the plan from here, and how long before the rest of us become expendable?' He hissed.

'That's enough Neo!' Morpheus snapped, 'Roy could not have foreseen the results of the mission.' He turned towards Roy, 'but we do need to know our movements from now on. What do you suggest?'

"We need to know the rooms we've found out so far, and then we can dictate our moves from there." He nodded, retaining a sense of calm.

Morpheus held up the paper to read, 'The rooms and aliases are Mr D. Poe at room 283, Mr T. Black at room 285, Mr V. Gold at room 299, Mr J. Wood at room 300, Mr T. Ant at room 303 and Mr R. Chase at room 308.' Morpheus' gaze settled on Roy as he turned his face away, his eyes narrowing. '…Roy? What can you suggest?' he asked calmly.

He shut his eyes, his face creased in concentration. He took a deep breath, before opening them to face Morpheus, "we each need to split up and take a room, with the number of people that we have on our side, we'll be able to narrow down our search for Smith and Envy's room faster." He nodded.

Morpheus smiled then, 'then we'll each pick a room. Roy, you can have the first pick.'

Roy thought on this for a moment, "I'll choose the last room, Mr R. Chase."

"I'll choose-." Edward jumped in.

'No, we've already been through this Edward,' Morpheus reprimanded, 'you must stay out of the Matrix. It is important you don't jack in!'

Edward flinched from his words, before glancing down out of his gaze, "yes, sorry."

'I have a feeling she'll be in Room 303.' Neo nodded. 'Mr T. Ant.'

'I'll choose Mr Poe.' Switch nodded.

'I'll take Mr T.' Apoc smirked.

'And I'll choose Mr V. Gold.' Morpheus nodded, placed the papers back on the table and stood up from his chair. 'I think I already have a plan.' He grinned.

-/\*_;)(-

The darkness held her there, the gravity wouldn't let her go, and the strength had dissipated from her limbs. Her face had become numb to the roughness of the floorboards; her bound arms were used to their wrapped position.

She heard a click in the distance, it came again and the soft slap of skin came closer before she felt a settle of weight, the floorboards seemed to creak beneath it.

"You're still not talking?" the presence seemed to chuckle, awaited her reply. She could hear a breath of resignation, warm against her skin. "I guess you don't want to hear the news I have for you then."

She lifted her head towards the presence, but the floorboards creaked and the gentle slap withdrew.

'Wait!' she gasped, coughed, her mouth dry, 'what news?' she croaked.

All movement seemed to cease, she waited on bated breath. The slapping continued, drew back to her. All breathing resumed.

"A man came to the desk earlier, called himself Tom Anderson." The voice seemed to lilt.

She perked her head; her lips spread into a hopeful smile.

"But it wasn't Neo." Her smile deflated, slowly her head thunked back onto the floorboards, "I saw a scrawny looking lad as well, but it wasn't Fullmetal, it was another kid. Probably same age, one of your crew maybe…? Seemed familiar…" a soft chuckle bounced from the presence's throat, "they don't care, Trinity. Neo and that pipsqueak are so content on being with each other that they have no time for you. And the only ones who do will only be acting on the orders of your Captain. They've abandoned you."

She could feel the words pulverize, she couldn't help but let her emotions surface, all of her defensive walls had weakened. A lump rose in her throat.

"How about giving that offer some more thought, hm? You'd be better off."

-/\*_;)(-

They pushed the door open, hand-in-hand; they wheeled large suitcases in behind them. Her flowing white dress reached her knees, shiny and silky to the touch, like her pale skin. Her heeled shoes added height to her frame, putting her on equal footing with her husband's chin, a somewhat unshaved and black affair. His darker complexion contrasted with hers, but he didn't seem to care as he glanced down at her, his green eyes smiling as much as his lips. He wore a pale blue shirt, tucked into his black suit trousers, the jacket tied around his middle.

As they met the front desk, he gave a beaming smile to the desk clerk, who took it in good humour.

'Welcome to the Heart o' the city hotel, and what can I do for you tonight?' the blond man grinned.

'Yes, I'm Julian, and this is my male life part-.' She elbowed him in the side. He gripped it, before chuckling, 'I'm kidding, honey!' he turned back to the desk clerk, 'sorry, this is my _wife_, I can't believe I'm saying that!' he laughed and wrapped an arm around her waist.

'Laura.' She smiled curtly, 'he's so excitable today, we just got married you see.'

The desk clerk stared at them, stunned, 'Well, congratulations are in order! Would you like to be booked into the honeymoon suite on the top floor?'

'Nah, that's alright.' Julian smiled, 'Anything on the second floor is fine. We won't be bothered about the views, if you know what I mean.' He grinned eagerly.

'I'm sorry, my husband was willing to pay out on the wedding and reception, but he seems to be very stingy when it comes to the honeymoon. But,' she sighed, 'I guess it's just something I'll have to get used to.'

'Now, you know what I've said on this.' Julian gazed down at her and kissed her forehead, 'It's not the place you're in, but the person you're with. Money shouldn't matter when it comes to romance.'

'Great, then let's catch the last plane to Barbados while we still can,' she looked ready to lead him away down the foyer again.

'Nonsense,' and he pulled her back beside him, 'we're here now and we're going to have a wonderful time nonetheless, hm?' he raised an eyebrow pointedly. She looked up at him, held it, before sighing finally.

'Fine,' she sighed, before letting a rare smile show, 'oh, it just gets me off how you're so in control.'

'Right!' Julian rubbed his hands together readily, 'second floor it is! What room are we in?'

'Well…' the desk clerk flicked through the registry book, 'I'm not entirely sure what rooms are booked on the second floor because some little vandal snuck in and took the page for that, but I think Room 284 is free. It's a double bed, so I think it's the perfect match for you two lovebirds.' He grinned.

'Perfect!' Julian clapped, 'we'll take it! I love the sound of it already! Three even numbers, sounds so positive! Don't you think?' he grinned down at Laura.

'Peachy,' she uttered straight-lipped.

'And how long would you like the room for?' the desk clerk asked, grinning.

'A week.' Julian smiled, 'and if we want it any longer, we'll let you know.'

'Ok, well that should amount to $2723, but for you two; I'm willing to knock down the price. If I gave you 25% off, then that will be…' he started scribbling down notes on a piece of paper, muttering to himself as he went, '$2042.25, plus the room service is free.' He beamed.

'Excellent!' he quickly went for his wallet, and counted out bills before offering them, along with the few cents, 'Thank you so much, you're too kind.'

'And here's your room key.' The desk clerk passed it to them and waved as they strode eagerly through the doors and up the stairs.

-/\*_;)(-

The phone by the monitor rang and Morpheus stretched immediately to pick it up.

He nodded along with the muted sounds, 'excellent.' He smiled widely, and put the phone down. 'Apoc and Switch are in place in Room 284, which will make it easy for them to check on Mr Black and Mr Poe's rooms. With them there, there'll also be a useful weapons centre in case we run out of ammunitions and the like.'

"Then we need a plan of infiltration tomorrow." Edward nodded, "something that will keep the civilians free from danger as well." `

'This sounds like a tough one for Mustang,' Neo smirked, 'based on how Mouse came off, I'd say he has no hope of coming up with a plan that compassionate.'

"On the contrary, my dear Anderson," Roy countered his smirk, "I think I have the very thing."

'Settle down you two.' Morpheus frowned.

_Geez, if it's not one, then it's always the other…_

'What's the plan?' Morpheus continued.

-/\*_;)(-

She laid herself back in the seat and smiled as he lay down in the seat beside her. She smiled widely into his deep black eyes and warmness spread in his chest when he did the same.

'Are you ready Captain?' the operator called from the monitor.

'Yes.' He answered, 'Jack us in.' He turned back to face her, 'are you ready, Jue?'

'Always.' She smiled.

-/\*_;)(-

The darkness wasn't favourable, but the cooling, wet sensation made up for it completely. Beads of cool water trickled from the rough cloth, pooling into his eyes, down his face and into his hairline. He gave a sigh, glad the irritation had dispersed.

He laced his fingers, could feel them tighten as a little jolt of ache shot through his eyeballs, he wanted so much to rub it away, but his other hand kept a tight grip on the deviant. He gritted his teeth against it, clenched his eyes shut. Heat seemed to well in his chest, slowly erupting and edging at the rims of his eyes, tears flowed from there, and sporadic hiccups seemed to course through his body.

_I didn't try hard enough, I could've been better. I was shitting myself out there! Kept freezing up! I've let them down, I know it! I just know I have!_

He felt a weight on his arm, grasping it. He jolted up, but was soon ushered down.

"Calm down, it's me." A smile spread through his features, and he let out a breath.

'So, you found the time to pay me a visit,' he laughed a little, 'can see why though, must be boring not having anything to do.' He swallowed back the lump that was growing in his throat.

"I didn't just come here out of boredom." The voice seemed hushed, a sense of memory maybe, "I can remember not so long ago when I was on that table, you were first one to come and see me."

'I can remember that too. You woke up and you were flailing all over the place. We had to get Neo to calm you down.' He grinned widely.

"Yeah," he sighed, a pause of silence seemed to shower over them before, "how are your eyes?"

'They're better.' He nodded a little.

"Has Dozer said anything, about your sight?" the voice reflected concern.

'I er… I don't know. He hasn't told me anything, and I haven't taken this thing off yet. Not looking hopeful, but we'll see.' He sighed.

Footsteps seemed to echo from far off, and he felt something else, this time on his ankle. He immediately pulled it out of his grasp.

"It's only Roy." The voice seemed to respond helplessly.

"Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes." The deep voice seemed to chuckle.

'I'd say the same, if I could see you.' He quipped.

"Didn't know the term could be so literal." He heard a scraping noise across the floor and the settling of weight, "but I'll take it as a compliment."

He let out a sigh then, the frustration built back up in his chest, he gritted his teeth.

'Roy? I'm er… well, I'm sorry about the mission. We almost lost the information because of me.' His voice seemed to waver.

"But we got it, so don't apologize." The voice responded firmly. "We completed the mission and we did our best, and that's what matters."

'But I _didn't _do my best! I hesitated and I got scared; that's not my best!'

"But you tried, Mouse and we succeeded. There's no use dwelling on that while you're recovering." His voice grew quiet, "I know too well what that's like, and it's an unnecessary burden to carry."

'Th-Then, I want to help tomorrow, I want to make it up to you!' he flustered, the tears flowed over their brinks, merging with the cool water that dripped down his face. 'Please…let me make it up to you.' Silence seemed to spread between them.

"…I'm sorry, but I doubt Morpheus will let you."

'That's kiss-ass soldier talk!' he countered, the heat transformed into fire, 'you can't just say that, you're not a soldier anymore!'

"He's still my superior." He growled.

'He seems to listen to you though, you can _convince _him to let me out!' he suddenly sat up, ripped the cloth off his face, threw it to the floor and glared to the person at his left, 'you see, Roy? They're fine!'

"Mouse…" Edward interjected.

"I'm Roy." The voice at his right corrected, heat spread at the back of his neck. Two black forms stood beside him, same size, same height, nothing could distinguish one existence from another. Sweat clung to his brow, tears swelled and dripped, he clutched his eyes then. A whimper slid from his throat.

The form to his left stepped forward, spread its arms around him, warmth seemed to emanate from a place he wouldn't have thought possible. But he welcomed it, buried his head in the fabric, and heard the soft thumps, felt the hardness at his back and the warm place at his head. 'Let me make it… make it up to… to you… please…' he whimpered. From his other side, the footsteps withdrew, disappeared by the time he'd wiped his cheeks free of tears.

Author's note: This is by far the longest chapter I have written, amounting to 30 pages thus far. Of course, this means that you'll have to wait three weeks before you see Chapter 20, which isn't bad actually, because Chapter 20 will be the next day. The "day of the deal" if you will.

This chapter wasn't too bad to name actually, which makes a change; it's Missing Persons 1 & 2 by One Republic. This was one of the choices of names I could've used for Chapter 15 because of this line "Missing persons in the window, staring at me, saying things I can't hear", it would've seemed appropriate for when Havoc sees the missing posters, but the events of the chapter outweighed the lyrics of the song. In this chapter though, the first and main part of the chapter seem to be focused on finding not only Edward and Roy, but also on Roy and Mouse trying to find Trinity. I guess you could say that the missing persons aren't just Edward and Roy, right? It seemed appropriate this time around. Here, where Havoc and Falman are focusing on finding them both, the lyrics, "now suddenly you can't even be found, I said all night long." The lyrics, "first things first, second in command, right as I'm trying to change my plan" seem right for Roy, just as , "you spend it all chasing those lies, I don't really wanna take that chance, I don't really wanna do that dance" seems perfect for Neo's feelings on it all.

The long and short of it, this song was perfect for this particular chapter, I'm glad I held off using it until now. Oh, a little apology here, I know the mission took 15 pages to do, but I'll say sorry if the conclusion to it seemed a little rushed. At the point of writing, I had a cold and that does not hospitably co-exist well with writing. But, it needed to be done; because I wanted to get on with writing chapter 20 before chapter 18 came out. I'm still trying to keep ahead despite the fact I'm doing year 13 transition lessons and have a cold. But, things have to be done otherwise we would not progress.

I think one of the things that I've enjoyed about this chapter was coming up with the diary entries for Havoc to read out. They were mind-bogglingly fun. You know, I even enjoyed the reasoning and logic behind the whole discovery of where Roy and Edward could possibly be, but most of all, I loved coming up with Havoc's ideals for the future. They were actually what got my sister reading this fiction. She's only read and reviewed the first chapter, but hopefully she'll carry on someday without me having to pester her.

Just a side note here, I had no idea and had never really planned on Mouse losing some of his sight. It was not something that I had foreseen! But, it only seemed right that, if you get partially diluted bleach in your eyes that it will burn and damage them. To be honest, I don't know the exact repercussions of having bleach splashed in your eyes, so obviously don't do it, but all I can imagine is that it's similar to getting shampoo on your eyeballs. For one thing, it will burn like crazy and hurt, and you'll be trying to rub it out (I know this from experience, but let it be noted, never scratch an itch!). One thing I'm sure of though is that if pouring bleach on your skin can whiten it, that getting pure bleach in your eyes will definitely blind you, but since it's diluted, the damage is typically less. I will use this opportunity to my advantage though, because it only seems right that I should.

Anyway, if you made it this far down the chapter, then I'm very grateful for you making it this far and for reading this far into the fiction. I sincerely hope you're enjoying it, because I certainly enjoy putting this amount of effort into it. It may have taken weeks, but it was definitely worth it. I do believe I've already finished Chapter 20, but I don' think I'll get on with Chapter 21 until next week is over and I've broken up for school; that way I can actually get the first draft of my Personal Statement done. In the essence of Lois Griffin (Family Guy) Me wantie Creative Writing degree! On the other hand though, Chapter 20 will be out in three weeks, and if I think about it, it should be out… around the 6th August.

I know that's a while away, but hopefully this will keep you busy until then! Now, don't forget to review after you read, otherwise you won't get to _see_ Chapter 20. I only update when I get a review for the latest chapter. I hope you felt this chapter was worthy of being dedicated to you Arago Mae!

Thanks for reading this far xx

Ophelia Davis


	20. Decoy

Disclaimer: Since this is Chapter 20, I will renew my disclaimer here; I do not own the Matrix, any of its franchise or anything owned by Warner brothers and the Wachowski brothers. I also don't own anything created by Hiromu Arakawa, including Edward Elric and Roy Mustang, even though I love them oh so much xx

Now, this chapter is dedicated to The Vampire Alchemist for being the first to review; not even finished the Chapter and already she felt compelled to do so! I hope you don't mind this at all, but you see, I cannot update the next chapter without a review for the last one, which is why I give out these lovely dedications. But, saying that, this is Chapter 20, so I think I'll make this a double dedication! I shall also dedicate this chapter to Arago Mae for her lovely conversations and amazing patience in the coming out of this chapter! I know she's been excited, so this one's for you as well! I would also like to thank LightSwitchr for all the support he's given.

'_All things will be produced in superior quantity and quality, and with greater ease, when each man works at a single occupation, in accordance with his natural gifts, and at the right moment, without meddling with anything else.' – _Plato

Roy sat down heavily on his bed; his features were set in a deep frown. As he propped up his arms on his knees, he laid his head in his hands, let out a heavy sigh. He hoped then, maybe for his eyes to grow heavy, for them to force his lids shut, but Mouse's beseeching whimpers still lingered on him; they crawled along his skin, and begged him for a second chance. He couldn't shut his eyes now knowing what he would see when he opened them, he didn't deserve to; Mouse had lost his sight, taken despite his overall value and the value of what he had gained through his efforts, now worth more than his own.

_What kind of Equivalent Exchange is that?_

But, he couldn't change what had happened, this wasn't like the simulation; when mistakes were made they could've been fixed with faith and the reiteration of some seemingly holy mantra.

_Free your mind. _

The Matrix, however, was not so forgiving.

His eyes widened, he turned his head and glared at the wall beside him. The fist-groove was still set in the wall, the dent that could not be removed, or mended; it had been fixed into history, a constant reminder of past mistakes, that they could not be changed; set above his head, at the forefront of his mind, convenient. Stretching for it, he curled his right hand into a fist, and let the knuckle fall into the indentations it had made before, his face creased then as the voice echoed in his head.

_I'm sorry; an older mind like yours is not usually favoured when it comes to freeing them from the Matrix. Their minds have been deceived by the Matrix for so long that it's often hard for them to let go of what they already know for them to accept the truth. But, despite this fact, there is no way to reverse this process. The real world is unfairly unforgiving._

His fist tightened, shook in the groove, he glowered at its existence.

_The real world…? Is the Matrix not a tool for deception, something that takes advantage of its citizens' ignorance? Does it not use your very mind against you?_

The mantra then seemed like a useless chant, but its practise was far more redeeming; he could remember the warmth that enveloped the pole and filled his gut then when he needed it the most. But what use was the training if there was nothing to apply it to? All training should be repeated practise, one that can then be used when face to face with the real thing.

A smirk then grew on his lips and his fist fell from the groove. As he brought his hand back before him, he eyed each finger, each worn crease in his skin. The real thing…? It's not _meant _to be real; it is a simulation in its self, and yet the same rules do not apply. Oh how right he was the first time.

The smirk waned from his lips; he stared down into his lap. Did he really still deserve to? To close his eyes? A chill ran through him; maybe to gain sympathy for Mouse's situation, to gain a sense of what he had sacrificed. He shut his eyes, and he could feel himself sinking, deeper and deeper into the darkness as it hardened before him into that impenetrable black canvas. All around him, a place without boundaries, and yet, safe on all sides; nothing could get in, only voices.

_You'll have to free your mind! I know it's hard, but think about it! This is your environment and it's yours to manipulate! You can do it!_

His face creased into a scowl, his whole body tensed under some new strain, hoping to force up walls where the sound could not impede him.

_Come on! I have to free my mind! Open myself to what others don't believe! Let go of everything that's weighing me down! I won't let myself be blinkered! I have to open my eyes to what others remain blind to!_

He opened his eyes, the light flooded back in. The deep voice seemed to linger.

_I can see!_

His face set into a deep scowl. He couldn't doubt his own words. He couldn't erase what the past had inscribed. He couldn't doubt what he truly believed. He couldn't say the same for Mouse either.

He sighed then, in one single breath he released his strain and let gravity claim him as he fell back into the sheets of his bed. He could let himself go now, be buried into the sheets, free. But the mattress beneath held him on the surface, still tied to responsibilities, still not free. He had to keep thinking. As he stared up at the ceiling, his mind fell into its recent occupation and into the tunnels of his memory.

His memory fell to Morpheus, to earlier.

'_Tomorrow, we will jack ourselves into the Matrix, get into position and split up for the hotel rooms. We must narrow down our search as quickly as possible and get her out before Envy and Agent Smith realize we're here. Once one of us has retrieved her, we must let Tank and Dozer know so that they can notify the rest; then we must leave while we can.'_

He could remember thinking for a moment before giving his response.

"_But we'll have to be careful. In a hotel, they'll be a lot of bluepills, in which case we'll need to distract them in the foyer while the rest search for Trinity." _

'_Of course, the Agents often use bluepills as a basis for transport. If they know your position, they'll transfer themselves to the bluepill that's closest to their wanted location. That should hopefully limit that possibility.' He thought for a moment then. 'Switch and Apoc,' Morpheus nodded towards the two, 'tonight you will both jack into the Matrix and get yourselves a hotel room close to no. 283 and 285. While there, you will be able to check your rooms for signs of Trinity. Otherwise, you will serve as an internal weapons base should we run out of ammunition or equipment.'_

"_Then we'll have to make sure we use signals for identification, in case Envy decides to transform into one of us." _

'_Very well, then I'll leave the details of the distraction to you.' _

He, Switch, Apoc and Neo had sorted out the signals amongst themselves then before Switch and Apoc were jacked into the Construct, leaving him and Edward to visit Mouse, to remind themselves of the prices that had already been paid. The plan was tomorrow, there would be yet more to sacrifice.

Lacing his fingers, he sighed then. No, he couldn't change what had happened. Couldn't give back the sight the boy needed, and if he could, there would be no doubt he would. Instead, he had to leave the boy in Edward's arms, whimpering his words through sorrowful tears and aching eyes.

_Let me make it…make it up to…to you…please…_

Edward had looked up at him then, his brows were knitted, his cheeks red, his lower lip quivered. Warmth seemed to spread in his cheeks. He shook his head to rid himself of the image, frowned then, let a breath escape.

_I want to help tomorrow; I want to make it up to you! _

Mouse was bordering blindness, the ache may have still been present, but he wouldn't let it go. All he could do was struggle, for some purpose, for some sense of use. His face creased into a scowl. He couldn't let more sacrifices be made, not if he could help it, for Mouse's sake; he had succeeded in the mission, he had escaped with valuable information, and this was his reward?

_What a sick joke._

He screwed his eyes shut, bared his teeth. He had to think, strive and stretch for something, for some way or method that could help them. Something, for the distraction, some kind of distraction….

_Well…w-would it be possible if we er…switched roles? You could get the information and I could get the clerk away. I-I don't really work well under pressure._

His eyes flew open, wide; he sat up on his bed. Switch the roles!

He sprung to his feet, strode for the door. His face hardened then; he knew what he had to do.

-/\*_;)(-

Lying back on the sheets of his bed, Edward gave a heavy sigh as he tucked his hands behind his head. Warmth gathered in his chest, as if some form of alchemy had taken place. There were still problems, the process wasn't complete, but things, slowly, but surely, were being fixed and swept from the realms of his concern; the glass fragments had been swept from his doorway, he no longer had to worry, or be reminded of the problems that stuck in his feet.

As he closed his eyes, he smiled warmly; the darkness he had created seemed to fill with colour, with forms that created the basis of his memories. He couldn't help but let himself be dragged through each phase, pulled helplessly, but willingly.

_Ed…I-I'm…. I'm sorry for the way I've treated you! I've treated you like crap, time and again, and I realise now that I should never have put my obsessions before you… I know now that they're pointless and they won't get me anywhere…but, I'm going to get better, I promise! I won't quit…but, I can understand…if you don't want to forgive me…._

Roy's words filled his ears; the warmth from his arms surrounded him as they had before, the coarseness of the man's hair brushed against his temple.

_I'll be alright. If everything goes as planned, then we won't have to face the Agents. Just wish me luck, ok?_

The smile he purveyed as he laid back in the seat was warm, soft, he sighed softly. He could feel his face turn red with embarrassment, as soon after he bent low, and pressed his mouth close to his ear, whispering good fortune. As he pulled back, the hint of surprise was there, but the smile lingered longer.

_Right, I'll be sure to keep that in mind._

As he had tried to fight away his mirth, it had been bowled away completely, with just one wink.

_One day, Edward. This'll all be yours._

The warm chuckle that emitted from the hairless man's throat was enough to make him colour up, cringe from the memory, but beneath it all, he smiled.

But something else crossed his mind then, made his smile wane and his brows knit. He cast his mind back a little further, the words echoed in his mind, his own, drowning beneath his tears.

_I'm not scared. I know he won't reciprocate; I've already resigned myself to the idea. But, going back into the Beta-Matrix, my world, and seeing him there I knew that I couldn't just return without at least trying. I would regret it if I didn't…and even if he doesn't return my feelings, I can be happy knowing that at least he'll be by my side, and I'll be by his, supporting each other through this mess of a real world and fighting against the machines like true subordinates... That's all I can really ask for, and I know that at least, if I die in the heat of battle, or of old age, that I'll be dying with a smile on my face, if that's all it really amounts to…_

A jolt, a pang spread through his chest, frustration welled through from the pit of his stomach and he frowned lightly. It twisted inside him, this unsettled feeling, this dissatisfaction; it spread through him hotly until he had to coil up into a ball. His words, his voice, it raged war in his head, filled him up, he tried to clutch his ears shut, but was unable to greet true silence.

_Can I…Can I really be happy? _

-/\*_;)(-

From his room, Roy faced the muted buzz of the bodily darkness, only making out the shape of the hall before him with narrowed eyes; trying to gain some clarity, some sense of destination now that he had one. He strode on forward then, firm against the sway of gloom that enveloped the iron black walls. He almost raised his hand to the wall, but let it fall back to his side, averting his gaze from the path.

_I've been in darker places than this._

His fists tightened. Roy was sure the man would be there, probably waiting, expecting him, all-knowing. The man that commanded Neo, admonished Edward; he had control over the Ones, despite their higher value over him. Roy didn't know what god was, what he was like, whether he ever existed; but if he did…he had a feeling he was about to meet him now. The creator, commander, the leader; he was sure he would see all at once.

He turned to face straight ahead; the path was in sight, growing in clarity as a cordial strip of light pierced through the darkness, eradicated whatever kind of security it could've offered, promising something better. He followed it, not sure if it led to the right room, but he met the door where the light was waiting, squinting his eyes against the cordial brightness.

The door had been left ajar; he pressed himself to the wall beside it, dared to peek through the gap. The man, a seeming stranger, unlike the superior he had envisaged. Roy recognized the dark skin, standing out like the blackened central wick of a flame, hunched over with rounded shoulders and laced fingers, pressed to the bridge of his nose. The man seemed to be in a state of…meditation, prayer, locked in the trance of his thoughts, somehow waiting on some miracle to be performed; like he could do it.

The man should've known he was coming, should've heard him, heard the echo of his footsteps, but the man seemed hardly to be concerned by the world outside his own room. Maybe, he wasn't quite the deity he seemed to be, neither like the golden perfection with which most deities were associated or watching over his people. Even the deities were waiting on something that was outside the range of their power, giving their people little reason to trust them.

Roy pressed his hand to the door, and let it swing open without much effort. The man was there, in his full view, but he remained as he was, hunched over in thought. The light flooded from the room with a threatening glare and the cost of his sight, but he held strong against it, focusing his gaze on the room's centre, where the man sat.

He glared from him, to the doorway at his feet. He stared straight again, and dared to step in. The light seemed to heat his brow; some ominous pressure seemed to increase as the man began to uncoil. Roy narrowed his eyes in defiance; he'd stepped into the flames right before the gas fuel. If this didn't go well, he would burn; punishment for doubting the presence of the man as it continued to increase.

Morpheus stared straight into his eyes, his own worn out. He couldn't help but gulp.

'Roy.' A little smile surfaced to his lips, 'Is there a reason you're here? You should be resting for tomorrow.'

Roy's gaze seemed to waver, before falling to one side, glaring into a corner.

Morpheus' smile faded, 'Roy?' his face creased into a stern look, 'what's wrong?'

He glanced back at him, "I've figured out the details of the distraction, but the only way it will work is if Mouse is there with me."

His face creased into a frown, 'I can't allow that.'

"Then Edward will have to help me instead." He narrowed his eyes.

Morpheus let out a rough sigh, 'how many times do I have to repeat myself? Edward is _not _allowed in the _Matrix_.' his voice held some control.

"Then it will have to be Mouse."

'You know he's not fit for that kind of work.' Morpheus ground out through gritted teeth; he almost expected the heat to rise, for the flames to bite at his skin.

Roy stood his ground, "This morning I was close to death, but by the afternoon I was completing a mission. Mouse has gone through less than that. He's capable."

'You suffered abdominal trauma, Mouse could be blind by now; those are very two different cases.'

"But his case is not as bad as mine!" his voice rose.

'You were a soldier once; you have greater endurance than he does.'

"But that doesn't mean I'm stronger!" Roy growled, glaring into the dark pools of Morpheus' eyes; the flames seemed to simmer, the bulb began to flicker and dull. Roy let a breath escape, and released his scowl, "Please Morpheus, he wants to make it up to me, and I think he should be given the opportunity to do so."

Morpheus sighed, the breath seemed to cool the flames, and 'I'm only trying to think of his safety.' He pressed.

"I am too, but I'm also trying to think of his honour." Roy countered firmly, "I know he wants this, he wants to prove himself." His gaze held strong.

Morpheus averted his gaze; his fingers seemed to lace themselves as he propped up his arms, 'we'll attend to Mouse first, then we'll attend to the plans.'

-/\*_;)(-

The darkness seemed to break apart, sliced through the middle, slowly being stretched to reveal a dark canvas, pressed in at his face; easy to distort, yet coarse against his cheek. He screwed his eyes shut as a yawn escaped his mouth, as he retracted himself from the back. A soft light seemed to fill the synapse, he squinted to it.

He pushed himself up suddenly. His chest hammered, trying to force out each breath. His eyes widened to white walls, piles of papers in every corner, high on the coffee table, to a bookcase, to rays of light trapped behind bland curtains, partially breaking through and pooling on every inch of skin it could touch; to a sense of detachment, he didn't belong here.

A soft deep rasp broke through his panic, he whizzed his head towards it, towards the sofa beside him. Lying across the cushions, his head lolled on the arm rest, his chest rose and fell in a deep rhythmic pattern, his mouth parted with each exhaled breath. He let a smile rise on his lips; his dread had lost its former drive as he stretched for the cup that waited with a predictable loyalty at his side. He took a sip, immediately spat it out.

"Who…poisoned my tea?" some of its remnants dribbled down his chin and he wiped it away with the back of his hand, creasing his face in disgust.

He turned sharply towards a great yawn, the figure had risen from his sleeping stupor, silently scratched the back of his neck, turned towards him, smiled.

"No one did," the figure brought his feet to the edge of the sofa, combed his fingers through his hair and rubbed his eyes blurrily; "You didn't finish it off, so it's probably cold by now." His voice was a dry husk, far from its slaked quality. He smiled up at him.

He glanced back down at cup in his hand; its light brown surface was nowhere near immune to its aging process, to the lighter solid forms that had floated to the top in the midst of coagulation. Frowning then, he set down his cup on the coffee table, beside a leather-bound notebook. His eyes were drawn to it; to its simple adornments, empty of literate expression, to its dull black colour and the ribbon bookmark that protruded from the ivory-coloured pages.

He found himself picking it up, stroking along the smooth surface; a new, printed smell emanated from its cover, even more so as he flicked rapidly through the pages. He stopped on a page suddenly, the lines were narrow, the writing small and straight, masterful with some confident authority. He looked back up towards the figure, now stood up from his seat, stretching.

"You finished deciphering it already…? Falman?" he stared in awe of the man. "How much sleep did you get?" he glanced back down at the writing, his eyes drew across the details, the new-found events that were once before hidden with layers of obscure expressions and poetic license.

"Just half an hour," he replied, glancing towards a clock on the wall, hanging from its nail at an odd angle, "but it seemed worth it." He gave a groggy smile, "Once I'd cracked the code, I found myself really…involved. It seemed impossible to stop, there was a lot going on, a lot of loose ends I wanted to tie up." He started to pick the sleep from his eyes.

"This is…" his eyes widened as he glanced back up to Falman, a smile caught on his face, "thanks Falman. This is amazing, I didn't think you could get it done so quickly!" he let out a giddy laugh.

"I'm glad you think so," Falman's own smile grew, "just don't forget to read it, ok? I don't want all this effort to have been for nothing. The whole point of this was so that you could learn from Edward's perspective."

"Yeah, don't worry…I won't forget." His smile waned a little.

"Jean?" his own smile fell, "are you alright?" his brows knitted.

"Yeah," he laughed a little, "why wouldn't I be?"

"Your eyes look a little red. Have you been-?"

"No! I…well…" he seemed to falter in his words, "I'm fine." He glanced away from Falman's calculating gaze.

"That's alright then," Falman smiled as he leaned over and took Havoc's cup, before he strode for the kitchen area, "I think I understand anyway."

Placing the notebook back on the coffee table, he pulled the blanket off him, worked his legs through the folds and to the side. He found the boots that he had left beside him and wearily pulled them on. As he sat up straight again, a cup seemed to float into his peripheral vision with a halo of steam hovering above it, heralding the promise of a better drink than the last. He glared at it before glancing up to find it floating thanks to Falman. Securing the cup, he immediately took a sip; coffee this time, hot.

He muttered his thanks before glancing back up to Falman's face proper, "you can have the day off if you want. You don't have to come in; you must be tired." He smiled warmly.

"Nah," Falman waved the possibility away, "I don't get a day off until next week. Besides, I can always nap in the office," his smile grew, "of course, with you permission, Captain."

"Permission granted." He smirked. Placing the cup down, he stood up from his seat, stretched, and found his jacket on the floor. He pulled it on, buttoned it up, before frowning. His eyes seemed to waver, glancing away, so did his strength, and he sat back down on the sofa. "Last night," he uttered, "what we found out. No one else must ever know, ok?"

"It stays between you and me," Falman nodded reassuringly.

"Because if it gets around the office-!" his face maddened suddenly.

"It won't, we won't let it." Falman smiled.

He seemed to relax then, "right. I'll be going then." Pushing down on his knees, he seemed to find the strength again to stand and he picked up the notebook on his ascent, "thanks for letting me stay the night." He smiled, and took a sip of the deeper brown liquid, taking its slightly sweet and bitter taste. Placing it back on the coffee table, he stepped on for the door, "I'll go on ahead," as he pulled the door open, he waved before shutting it behind him.

The smile faded then from his lips, his fingers clenched around the spine of the notebook, feeling the creak of the pages as they held together, reinforced in their numbers. Yet, he carried on down the corridor, through the dull but looming shadows, alone. His jaw set, his teeth clenched, his steps seemed to falter as he leaned against a wall. His body shook, he covered his eyes, the redness brightened anew, and his cheeks grew damp, stinging at his old open wounds; probably needed a shower anyway.

-/\*_;)(-

Mouse seemed to lie still beneath Dozer's touch, hardly concerned by the dab of cold water against his still-blistered skin. The sharp intake of breath and the hisses seemed to have died away from Mouse's throat, as if he had been desensitized to the whole experience, soothed by the cold water. Somehow, he hardly seemed to mind it anymore, but Dozer couldn't truly be sure. He'd never been through the Matrix, never experienced it for himself. Though his role was important, he had always been an outsider, watching as the rest of the crew risked their lives against the Agents, for _his _home city, not necessarily theirs to begin with.

Dozer gave a soft sigh, withdrew the cloth and dipped it into a bucket by his side, squeezed and went back to dab his eyes again. He let the cloth hover over the bucket, the cold water dripped through his fingers. The skin around Mouse's eyes was a harsh pink; the flesh housed raised bumps, swollen and yellow. His brows knitted, and he pressed the cloth to Mouse's eyes once again.

His gaze followed down Mouse's body, to the laced fingers that rested on top of his stomach. With each new dab, the fingers seemed to rise, tighten, his knuckles turned white, the joints of his fingers turned a bruised purple beneath the bone of the joint. Another breath escaped his throat as he brought his focus back to Mouse, back to his face.

'Does it 'urt? When I dab?' Dozer asked, softly, patiently.

'A-A little.' His voice seemed to quiver on the side of ache, croak dryly.

'I'm sorry I can't do more.'

'That's o-ok.' His lips perked at the edges, wavered. 'It was m-my fault really.' His faces creased, eyes screwed shut, 'Ha-haOW!' he choked.

'Just try an' keep your eyes shut. They're still tender.' He tried to smile a little, sighed.

The door before them opened suddenly, footsteps joined them, his gaze jerked to them quickly. Two bodies; Morpheus immediately strode to Mouse's side, standing over the boy, opposite Dozer and he retracted his cloth. His gaze shifted to the second. He hung back, leaned against the wall by the door, arms folded, eyes shut; contemplation? Waiting? Silent subordination?

'Mouse, its Morpheus.' Morpheus spoke, hunched over him, his face close. His voice seemed unphased by anything, patient. 'Please answer me honestly, do your eyes still hurt?'

Mouse's head seemed to quirk for a second, before he gave a little nod, 'they ache a little, but they're better than they were.'

'And your eyesight, can you see?' his voice still retained its steadiness.

'Yeah,' Mouse nodded again, 'I can.'

'How much?' Morpheus asked quickly.

'Well…' his eyes seemed to shift a lot behind their lids, 'I can make out people, I-I can tell where they are in a room, a-and I can see where I'm going. But…I can't see colour.' His lids seemed to clench, his brows tensed, 'I-I can only see in black and white.'

'Can you open them?'

'Y-Yeah, I think I can.' Slowly, the pink flesh seemed to crease together, the bumps rubbed in its stinging friction. He clenched his teeth, bared them as he revealed the red veins in his eyes, hugging at the blue of his irises.

Morpheus stepped away, stood straight, and hugged his chin in thought. Minutes seemed to pass, slowly, Dozer couldn't severe his gaze from the man.

A heavy sigh seemed to pass from Morpheus' lips; Dozer's grasp tightened around the cloth, 'Alright,' the man seemed to release some held in breath, 'Roy, he's all yours.'

'You can't be serious.' Dozer growled at Morpheus, 'he's ain't fit for this.'

Morpheus turned to him, 'Roy and I have already discussed the plans for tomorrow and we have agreed that the plan cannot come off without Mouse's cooperation.' He averted his gaze from his then, 'but if you have anything else to say about it, then by all means, direct them to me.'

His gaze followed the man as he strode stiffly for the door, passed Roy, as the man held a satisfied smirk on his lips. Dozer narrowed his eyes at him.

The door shut behind him, took it as a signal to open his eyes once again, spring to his feet proper from wall, release his folded arms. As he stepped smoothly towards him, he patted Mouse's leg, smiling.

"You hear that, Mouse?" he grinned, Mouse returned it as he recognized the low voice, "You'd better be ready for tomorrow, we're going to be swapping roles."

Mouse's face seemed to brighten immediately; his jaw seemed to release the ache.

"Starting tomorrow, you're our distraction; it's an important role as well, will that help you make it up?" Roy chuckled.

'Thanks.' Mouse croaked, 'I won't forget this, man. I owe you.'

"Great!" Roy grinned, "You can owe me back tomorrow."

Roy made ready to turn and leave, but was hung back by Dozer's bared teeth and disgusted glare, 'I don't know _how _you got Morpheus in on this little scheme o' yours, but so help me, if _anythin'_ else happensto Mouse I'll-!' he rose from his seat.

"Keep your moustache on, Dozer." Roy smirked, "You heard Morpheus, and he's given the plan the go-ahead. There's not much else we can do now."

'But you still got Ed.' He seethed.

"Morpheus has already said that we can't use him." Roy narrowed his eyes, "He can't be trusted inside the Matrix. I'm sure you of all people should know that by now." He growled.

Dozer glanced aside, clenching his jaw; he murmured for Mouse to close his eyes, and went back to dadding Mouse's face with the cloth.

As Roy turned to leave, Dozer growled suddenly through the spreading silence, 'Just promise he won't get into no trouble.'

"Trust me, he won't." Roy turned away from the table, from Dozer and shut the door behind him. He let himself rest on the door, let out a sigh; how could he promise? The Matrix is not so forgiving as to abide by someone's promises, no matter how sincere.

-/\*_;)(-

Something existed beneath his roof. Crawled in the shadows, behind his back, almost…followed him in a vain attempt at co-existence that was still easy to fracture. It seemed too easy to mock the being; he could've done it too, but…the being always seemed to hold a shield between them; a paper border, flimsy, but somehow impenetrable.

There was no way to break through it, all glares had failed him, and no state of mentality could deter the being from holding it before its face. He had often thought, from his stance by the wall, of some violent motive, but something had held him there; even behind its newspaper, the being seemed to hold up some other front; that of the omnipotent, the invisible. No, invisible, meant guarded, hidden, like a coward. Even as it reached for its mug from behind the newspaper, he couldn't help but think that it might as well be shaking.

He pulled his arms closer to him in their folds, his black-framed eyes narrowed, forming a deeper look of disgust; the omnipotent may be all-powerful, it did not for one second mean they cared for anyone, or anything, that stood in its proximity. He couldn't help but scowl at its very existence.

'You don't care, do you?' he uttered; the figure read on, unresponsive, heartless, 'are you listening to me?' he growled.

The figure let out a sigh, as if he had been testing its patience, 'yes, of course I am; I can hear you loud and clear, Victor.' It set down its mug, his word weren't worth their weight in its attention and so its mug carried its pride of place at the top of his priorities, along with its newspaper.

'Then say something!' he countered, baring his teeth, somehow hoping it would pick up on the challenge.

'What exactly do you want me to say?' its voice seemed worn-out.

_Forgotten your lines already?_

This charade was becoming too much for the being to take by now.

'Joe is dead, and you don't care at all!' his voice was heated, so was his face, turning red at the cheeks.

'Victor, of course I care, he wasn't just your little brother, he was my son, but these things happen.' His voice remained cast in its upheld authority, as if it was all part of the daily strain; yet again the proper attention had been left in debt.

'These things-? You can't just sum up death like that! What, are you stoned?' he howled, 'he just dropped dead, and you don't think it's odd?' the tears welled easily in his cheeks, following easily the already worn, smeared, trail where its brethren had passed before.

'I'm sorry son, but that's just the way the world works. First you're here, and then you're not.' Only a being could sum up something as life-changing as death in one swift menial statement.

'But he was fine! He wasn't sick-!'

'Victor!' the being's voice rose above him, 'that's quite enough! For some reason, you're treating me like the enemy, as if it's all my fault, but I can assure you it isn't.'

Victor flinched, tried once again to glare through the pages in hopes of finding the being, or whatever trace of his supposed father was meant to still exist inside of that empty shell; he should've known he would find nothing.

'Joseph's death was indeed a tragic loss, but we must move on from it now. It was months ago, and I think you've mourned long enough.' He seemed to hold the paper higher, firmly in place, 'now, why don't you go out and play with your friends, or go out on your skateboard. Whatever you feel like doing.'

His face creased up at its suggestions, 'fine,' he scowled, 'then I'm going to find out what happened to my little brother!' he strode for the door, 'there's a reason why this is happening, and I'm going to find out why!' he slammed it shut behind him, blasting everything away with it; the rustle of the paper seeped away, taking away all sounds of breathing. The air had grown painfully still.

The being's grip loosened. The propped paper fell from his grasps. The ink leaked from its lettering, spreading through the veins of the pages, across the table. It leaked slowly across the table cloth, spilled onto the floor in quick drops. With each new drop the puddles spread, flowed to the edges of the kitchen, rose in depth. It seeped up the walls, quickly becoming level with the table surface.

It lapped at the being's form, pushed at its back, forced it down. Its head hit the table, sent a resolute ripple through the growing ink. It seeped then into its gaping mouth, poured down its throat, thickly filling its lungs. It shuddered with each push of air, sending thick bubbles through to the surface, choking him.

It clogged at its eyes, crawled up through its hair, pressure built, pushed in now at all sides. It all weighted above, as if something were grabbing a hold of it, the current shaking it, making it thrash limply, a puppet for the pungent black pigment to play with.

His eyes flew open. He glared up at the offender; he was greeted with a warm smile.

His breathing seemed to settle; he hadn't realised he'd been holding his breath.

"_Roy,"_ he breathed, _"what's up?"_ he pushed himself up onto his butt as Roy sat beside him.

"_Morpheus has summoned us to the top deck,"_ Roy replied, _"didn't want you to miss out on the deal."_ He smirked a little.

"_Right, thanks,"_ he nodded gratefully; he made to bring his feet to the edge of the bed, but stopped mid-motion, Roy cast him an odd look. He averted his gaze, faced the floor.

"_Edward?"_

He quickly turned to face him at the sound of his name.

"_You Ok?" _Roy asked; Edward stared up at him, his cheeks began to redden as he looked down from Roy's gaze.

"_Yeah," _he forced himself to smile, facing him again, _"I'm fine, it's just," _his smile started to fade a little at the edges, _"aren't you nervous? About the mission?" _

A smirk plastered Roy's lips, _"you think I am? I've been on a lot of missions, Ed. This'll be just like any other."_

_ "You've only been on one recently." _Edward frowned, _"and before you got here, you were doing a lot of desk work. That and you're still injured, I mean, aren't you worried it'll go wrong?"_

_ "Come on Ed, have some more faith in me," _Roy grinned, _"I could handle it yesterday. I'll be fine."_

His eyebrows knitted. He found himself looking into his Roy's eyes, dark, warm, unremitting, and excited. Once where there was nothing more than dull adornments for his face was now a calming revelation. Before they had looked ready to give up their light, and yet now their warmth had been rekindled, become airborne and contagious, spreading to him. It caused a smile to grow.

_"Yeah, of course you will."_ Edward smiled softly, _"just, be careful."_

Roy's grin grew wider, _"Listen to yourself Ed. What are you so worried about?" _he chuckled.

_"I'm not!" _He protested, but let it go, glancing away, _"I'm just…."_

_Scared_

_ "Edward." _He felt a hand grasp his shoulder, and turned quickly to face its owner, the Roy's face more serious now, _"Everything will go on as planned, and it will be a success." _He gave it a reassuring squeeze, _"Just stop worrying all the time, ok?" _he smiled.

"Ok," he nodded. His gaze was fixed again on the eyes of the older man, he could tell, they were closer this time.

_Roy…?_

He stiffened where he sat, couldn't tear himself away from his gaze. Roy's eyes seemed to dart up and down his face; his cheeks seemed to redden faintly.

_What are you...?_

The man's eyebrows knitted, unsure, strained; his rough, dry lips parted, he seemed to edge closer.

_Are you…?_

A soft breath escaped his lips; his eyes seemed to flutter shut.

_I can't believe… is this really-?_

There was a sudden knock on the door, the hand fell from his shoulder, and he let out a cough, turned from Edward.

_"Sorry." _Edward muttered nervously, and turned from Roy, his breathing seemed to heave, erratic. His face was turning a beetroot red. 

The door flew open; Mouse stared at them from the door frame through narrowed eyes. Roy was already halfway towards him.

'Erm…M-Morpheus says you guys-.'

"We know." Roy growled, shoving past him. Pushing himself up to his feet, Edward followed close behind, letting Mouse latch onto his arm for guidance.

-/\*_;)(-

After everything he'd learned, after all that he'd been told… It was a wonder he was able to trudge through those bleak corridors and pass the same white walls that had supported the HQ for years with the same dreary blandness it always tried to inspire: authority, responsibility, some overt purity that could only be found far from the battlefield, something that gave the military a good name under false pretences.

That's right, after everything, after all those previously undiscovered truths had been brought to the surface, the walls were the same; everything was the same. Even after its impact, he'd expected something to change, something to become askew in a way that let everyone know it acknowledged that newly spoken existence; but nothing, the walls still held their same pallor.

_Everything that I've known, how can this…thing! not be like it's always been on the surface? It seems like…the real things that mattered have lost their meaning, it's been distorted, like friendship and subordination; now, it's an ugly truth that's been hidden right under our noses…. _

His eyes fell from their obedient glance forward and down to the notebook tucked under his arm; its black cover seemed honest in its own right, promising no innocence, but without its title, a presumed crime that must not be named. He gripped its spine, and gave a heavy sigh.

_…and always will be…._

For all the trouble it had been worth to uncover its all-encompassing secret, it still held other truths that only the author, the writer of the diary, could've possibly revealed; the truths of the romantic torture that he had to face first-hand for goodness knows how long. If his endeavours were all for the hand of the fairer sex, for a woman, he knew he would sympathise, but suddenly, a difference in gender turned it all on its head; the form of the notebook that contained it all seemed to twist, writhe, flail until the _thing, _the thing that represented the unnameable crime seemed to uncoil in his mind.

The black form, the mass made larger spread, leaked, until it grew from its puddle like long, thrashing hair. A twisted, disfigured face seemed to form from beneath it, living barely through its haggard breathes, causing each elevated plateau of skin to rise. It's long, blue tongue pushed through its gaping mouth to lick along the black, cracked lips, hoping to taste the sweet fragrance it emitted; what it thought it could supply in order to lure its male victims into a sense of amour that could not be shaken.

This time, it's white, merciless eyes had certainly found their target, tangled it mercilessly into its sticky trap and submerged him in the scent that turned all good men towards a path of evolutionary impotence. As its victim was buried deeper into its writhing hair, the mass pushed itself out from the ground using long, gangly limbs, helped further through the surface by the hooked claws it housed at the ends.

The victim could struggle all they wanted, claw themselves free if they could, but all for naught. Those claws would still drag its victim back in, ensuring that all those who tried to liberate themselves from the tangled mess would be trapped forever, bleeding if necessary; hooked into thinking that this godforsaken lifestyle could and certainly would bring them pleasure.

His own face twisted at the thought. He couldn't believe how ignorant he had been of its very existence. This abominable creature had been there all this time, curled up in a secluded corner of the office, watching, waiting, secreting its foul stink. Glaring at its victim with narrowed eyes, knowing it would edge away from the trap before becoming weakened by some assumed beauty the other man might possess; fooled into thinking it was better than what any kind-hearted girl could offer him.

He shook his head vigorously.

_I shouldn't think like that. That's what the diary is for after all, to find out what's really going on. I shouldn't – I can't rely on my assumptions all the time!_

He came to the door then, and as he opened it, he found the same old office he'd always known. Its same blank walls still portrayed an overt innocence about the whole thing, like a child immediately passing on the blame in a mix of guilt and protestation. But then, the walls weren't the same, not as they had _always _been; along the painted surface charred grey marks ran along from the blast that had erupted in the past, leaving indelible scars that could never heal.

_Not so innocent now, you knew this whole time…if these walls could talk, could read minds, you would certainly have a lot to say for yourself, wouldn't you…?_

But those marks didn't seem to matter; nothing had changed or would be disrupted now that it had grown use to the disfigurement. The walls would still carry on, for all appearance's sake, to boast defiance, choose to seem ignorant of the truths it had kept confined, even more so the men who worked here daily.

He let the twist of his features relax, and as he came to his desk, promptly dropped the notebook there.

"Hey", a familiar face seemed to wave, but he didn't face it; turned a blind eye.

He looked about him; still nothing was different, it all seemed so painfully similar. He had expected some great change to have taken place, just to prove that what he had heard last night was the honest truth, but his environment did not adhere to that way of thinking, and remained the same.

He gritted his teeth, and having taken his seat, peered to the right of him through the corner of his eye. A leather sofa had been pushed to the wall, the same sofa where Edward would've sat, maybe while he was writing his diary as the caricature had suggested; thinking thoughts that could only truly exist under the influence of that monster's sickly scent.

"Havoc?" the voice broke his thoughts, and he turned to it abruptly, before letting his guard fail a little.

"Sorry, Breda," Havoc smiled softly, "good sleep?"

"Listen," he held Havoc's gaze steadily, "I felt really bad about leaving you and Falman to clean up."

"It's fine, really," Havoc waved it away, took notice of his hand, laced into the fingers of the other, "we got it all done, no sweat."

"I still felt guilty about it, so I called up all of the hospitals in the Central and nearby areas for any records of Roy Mustang being hospitalized." Breda nodded firmly, Havoc stared at him then.

"You did? Didn't they mind?" a little smirk came up on his face. He stared out of the corner of his eye, leered into some isolated corner of the office. No matter how much he tried to block it out, the disgusting, hairy creature seemed to weave in and out of his thoughts, before seeping through the walls and into that corner. It curled up there, hissed at him malevolently, all because he seemed to be oblivious to the pungent stench in the air; the one that he feared could bend his ways, until even his face would be scraping the floor, mentally kissing the floor Breda walked upon.

He quickly turned towards Breda, listened for his reply.

"Some of them got snappy about me calling them at some unholy time of the night or whatever, but once I made out I was some close relative of the Colonel's, they were helpful enough." He shrugged smiling.

He unlaced his fingers; let his hand press to his nose.

_Was the Colonel ever immune to this scent?_

"And? Has he been hospitalized?" he asked quickly.

"No, I made sure I got the date right, but they've seen nothing of him." Breda frowned.

The monster seemed to snigger then, heave and cackle under arduous breath like a gasping hyena, that it seemed to have worked its wicked ways over most; even those he had hoped were strong enough to resist. He couldn't help but withdraw from the stink, from the cruel and wheezing sense of mirth from even Breda's words, but his only way of defence was to press himself into the back of the seat. He could only glance away from Breda's puzzled gaze.

"What's up?" Breda asked finally.

His face hardened, "Falman and I carried on with the investigation, ended up working pretty late, but we managed to decipher the diary. Edward wasn't planning on going anywhere the day he went missing, so…we've come to the conclusion that he's been kidnapped." His eyes narrowed, "and since the Colonel hasn't been seen in any of the nearby hospitals, chances are that he's been kidnapped as well, probably by the same people."

"Kidnapped…" Breda's eyes widened, "I can understand the chief, but Mustang? Who would do that?"

"We don't know for sure, but from the eye witness accounts, we can guess that it's by a group who dress up in suits and shades." He growled, his fingers tightened, "we find _them_, and we find them both. All we have to do is wait for the group to strike."

The creature's mirth grew vastly then, its breathless cackle filled the air, echoed from the walls; taking pleasure in their attempts of trying to reason with the situation, surely they knew it was pointless.

_Maybe they are responsible for this mess, for everything that's happened! Somehow, they must be behind it all!_

-/\*_;)(-

The light danced through the edges of her blindfold which each step she took. The floor felt rough against the soles of her feet, still she stepped onward. Cautious, she stretched forward, the coolness of the air made the skin of her fingers prickle. It seemed to linger in the distance some feet away, an invisible…enemy? Not the word she'd use. Precise, she swept her sword forward, gaining awareness. She twisted round, manoeuvred the handle with her, and stepped on again. Though the darkness still threatened to clamber in, her eyes whizzed behind the cloth, searching through the darkness ahead, awakening her senses to each little pin-prick of sensation, whether through sound, touch or otherwise.

_Where is he…?_

She raised her sword, swung; it caught nothing, sliced through the air easily. Another step, twist, a coarse sound emitted from her foot.

Pads came closer…there! She rose to block, the ringing of steel collected in the air, echoed against the darkness. She didn't need the light for this, when sound was a great companion already. That was when she stepped, swung, slashed against the metal clangs. Blocked, she was forced back, she pushed it away. She lunged then; she could feel it against her blade, skating across it. She stabbed, bent low, jumped.

Pressed to her chest, she spun, twisting, sailing, the air howled in her ears, the padding didn't cease. Nothing could truly hold her; no gravity that the darkness could provide was worthy enough to catch her mid-motion. She flipped then, landed, straightened, something tugged around her shoulder, pulling.

Steel rung as she knocked it away, cartwheeled past once, twice, stopped, the ringing still reverberated through the air, now facing where it was coming from. Something came loose. It stroked softly down her arm, she could hear the ruffle of material as it heaped by her feet, tickled there. She faced the direction of settling pads, raised her sword, and ran forward.

Their steel clashed, its force was greater, pushed her back. She battled forward, slashing, she swung it round, stopped abruptly; the clash rang through. Forced back, she hopped away, held her sword up.

The padding drew forward, stopped suddenly. She jumped and twisted to follow it, slashed forward, she landed, the padding settled. Ran forward again, jumped, flipped, her sword stretched out; there was a gentle tug against the tip. She landed, bent backwards then, a breeze coiled around her front. She uncoiled, struck steel, spun over, something tugged again. Her knee slapped against the floor; in the distance, material ruffled, heard other material stretch before it settled. She straightened her stance; a smile grew on her lips, brightened by her achievement.

Nothing could keep them apart; no obstacle could stand between them. They could try, but it wouldn't be enough, they could try harder but it would still count for nothing. Not even the darkness could stand in their way. Neither is the light needed when it tries to force its way through. Nothing could blind them from each other.

She dashed round, made ready to lunge again.

-/\*_;)(-

They rushed up the ladder quickly, bringing themselves to their feet as they met the top deck. Mouse had lost his grip on Edward's arm and after completing his cautious ascension, made a beeline for some tall, black being and latched onto their arm, this time Roy's to save himself from falling. As they settled themselves by the monitor, Neo, who had eyed them from the far wall, sprung himself up from his leaning post to join them.

Morpheus, stood between the seats, watched them with folded arms as all their gazes were fixed onto his, their leader, their captain. They knew the respect that had to be given, and they stood up straight, arms by their sides. They were also relying on him, the reason for their stance; he had to make sure he deserved that much, and could prove he knew how to provide the reassurance they needed. He took a deep breath and stepped forward, his lips spread into a smile.

'My friends,' he began, 'today is the day we have been anticipating. Today is the day we have been preparing for. His voice stilled for a few moments, giving him time to consider his own words, 'they, the enemy, have a made a deal with us, and so we must face it, but neither will we surrender ourselves to their charge. We cannot sit idly by while one of our own is bound and in their grasps, so we shall jack in with one goal in mind…' he peered over each face, each one held some stony resolve, lit by the light of the monitor; like experienced soldiers, they awaited their orders, and who was he to deny them? '…save Trinity. Right now, she depends on us for her immediate rescue. However, we may have been successful in the depletion of their numbers in the simulation, but today we shall face the real thing, so to speak. If you are killed, you will not return here! If you are killed, you will not get a second chance!' his voice rose to an unbelievable chorus, before stilling to a severing quietness that could still be heard, 'if you are killed, you will be simply this...dead.

'So, it is with your safety in mind that I warn you: should you come face to face with an Agent, I expect you to run if possible. We may be an effective ship, but not without our numbers, for without the many we cannot aid the One.

'And, though some of you will be unable to join us in the fight, your support will not go unnoticed.' He stepped forward then, his smile still fastened on his lips, and his hand came to rest on Edward's shoulder. 'Edward, Clier,' Edward's lips perked at the edges, unable to retain that rigid resolve, 'by staring here, you ensure our victory.'

With a final smile, he released Edward's shoulder, and with a nod, moved onto Edward's left. His hands came to rest on the shoulders of Tank and Dozer, who had stood to meet their captain's gaze, 'Tank and Dozer, brothers-in-arms,' their smiles brightened, 'by acting as our operators, we know we are in safe hands; we could not complete the mission without you both.' He released them and returned to his original stance, 'So, it is with courage in our hearts that we march onto the battlefield, working as one unit, one heart, one mind, and it is with this knowledge that we shall be victorious!'

A steely silence graced the air; they all waited on baited breath as Morpheus seemed to be frozen in a state equal to a mannequin, his chin drawn now to his chest, his eyes shut.

The silence was broken suddenly, slapping flesh, clapping. Edward's hand met together with a rhythmic repetition and an appreciative smile. Morpheus looked up from his stance; a soft smile reflected his silent gratitude.

Roy's eyes became drawn to the spectacle beside him, drawn to the movement; the collision of living flesh and man-made prosthetic, reality in all its glory and purpose-built simulation, the Real World and the Matrix. Both limbs knew how to co-exist, both knew how to co-operate, each working hard with the other to create something useful and positive. He was sure he knew now that he was recognizing it: the two worlds could learn a lot from a cripple.

A smirk grew on Roy's face, he couldn't help but follow suit, despite the familiar completeness of his own limbs; his own hands met together, joining the established rhythm, adding to its depth and power. Two men, both of the Beta-Matrix, disrupting the gap and bringing chaos to an organised silence; it seemed they had both yet to learn obedience in a world far different from their own.

And yet, his eyes widened as more hands joined the beat, his smirk faded. More had chosen to follow a path of chaos, supposedly like them, and suddenly it had become the will of the ship to do so, a general accepted notion, because the majority wished it so, and who better to lead them into this foray than the living embodiment of these two oppositions: man and machine.

_I see now…_

A new truth was being laid out for him, not spoken in words, but spelled out through actions. He could see now by example: it wasn't wise to accept one world and simultaneously reject the other; that path led to self-destruction in its own right. It was, however, far better to recognize both and then foster the idea that both were different, but also essential, just as the rest of the crew had done as they picked up the rhythm; all this, despite the history that existed in one, or the lack of history that had yet to be recognized in the other. He knew now, he should've learned all this sooner, while it was being spoon-fed.

_I see now, your past is only essential to the world where it was created. To live in another world, you have to let go of the cares of the last; they will only hold you back. Only when you return to the last world will they regain their importance. Of course…it doesn't mean that the past has been erased, just that it doesn't exist in your present history. But, then, you already knew that, didn't you, Fullmetal?_

He trailed his eyes away from the boy beside him; let them remain concentrated on his own hands, adding to the spectacle, conforming to the new movement. His lips grew into a soft smile; he could feel his cheeks heat. The rise in volume dragged him away from his private thoughts, shattered through his secrets, and he shook his head violently, almost glad for the disruption. All hands were now clapping in unison, all joined in the effort of goading, of stirring up encouragement, growing until it seemed like every metal wall on the ship carried the resounding clash. It kept on building, building, until suddenly it erupted into a chaotic shatter of applause.

Slowly, Morpheus' smile grew wider into the grin of a Cheshire cat, until all fell to silence again with a severing wave of his hand.

'Now my friends. The time has come; let us begin.'

Roy's eyes sidled back to Edward, whose face had regained its firmness, a determined smile now cemented in his lips.

_Ed…you're not afraid…_

Roy's gaze returned to Morpheus', and his own features hardened by the light of it.

_Then neither am I!_

-/\*_;)(-

As Morpheus moved aside, Roy grabbed Mouse by the arm and guided him to a seat, before laying himself down in his own. Tank and Dozer stepped out from behind the monitor, moving quickly past Neo, and pushing past Edward.

His feet were manoeuvred into their holds, before being strapped down. Glancing up, Edward was just stood before them, still retaining that determined smile that made him return it.

"Good luck." Edward nodded, and he offered his fist. He smirked to himself, knocked it with his own before his wrist was forced and strapped down.

_So then, that before was nothing…he doesn't really think of me like that…does he?_

"You sure you know what you're doing?" Edward asked.

"Yes, Ed." Roy smirked, "don't worry, we'll be back with Trinity before you know it." he could feel hands at the side of his head, pulling him back into the head rest.

"Alright, just don't die." Edward's determined smile turned soft, Roy's eyes seemed to widen to it. Something skated then along a rim, trying to find its location.

It penetrated suddenly, his mouth gaped, his body tensed; his eyes fell shut and he was dragged back through the darkness. A white dot flared in the distance, whizzing closer, growing bigger into view and he squinted his eyes to the sudden brightness. It wrapped around his whole body, surrounded him, and swallowed the darkness behind him. The white space, the Construct, he was before it once again.

He rubbed the back of his head irritably, _"I'm never going to get used to that."_

'Roy?' he heard someone calling somewhere behind him. Turning round, he found Mouse; the boy's gaze was fixed directly on him.

"You alright, Mouse? How's your sight?" Roy asked as he strode towards him.

'I can tell where you are, if that helps.' Mouse smirked.

"And do they hurt? When you try and keep them open?" Roy asked quickly.

'No,' he seemed surprised himself, 'they don't hurt at all.'

Roy relaxed a little then, "Good, I'm glad." He smiled, but let his face fall again, serious this time, "Once we're in our disguises, I'll explain the plan, ok?"

'Right,' Mouse nodded.

Suddenly, a breeze seemed to blow up their faces, and in the distance, the shelves came hurtling towards them. He stepped quickly from its path, with Mouse following his steps. He couldn't help but smile.

_His sight may not be a hindrance after all. This can still work. _

-/\*_;)(-

As she stood behind her desk, her feet ached in her heels, but she tried her best to put it aside. There wasn't exactly any room for her to complain, and after the mess the foyer had been found in yesterday, she knew her boss wouldn't listen to her either. Gathering pages together, she tapped them into a straightened order, and gave them a designated spot in their stack. Nodding at the work, she leaned against the desk, propped her elbows up on the desk ledge to give her head some support.

She gazed out onto her clients, watching as they slowly filled up the chairs that had been carried in from the dining room. Some were sat between the gaps of the columns, chatting as they sipped drinks they had ordered from the bar next door, quenching their thirst.

She couldn't help but give a resigned sigh. Her mouth felt dry, little beads of sweat collected at her brow, both from the heat and the strain. Her hand went for her jacket pocket, rummaged in there and pulled out a napkin. As she opened up the folds, she found them, the black digits that had been made there, and she smiled a little to herself.

She looked out towards the foyer again, muttered to herself, 'well, there doesn't seem to be anything suspicious going on.' She sighed, before replacing her napkin and looking up towards the clock.

_Just four more hours until my shift's over._

She propped up the before free elbow, and cupped her chin, her face creased into a frown.

_Maybe he was lying to me, and I was stupid enough to believe him. _

Her face moulded into something bordering annoyance, but she quickly glanced away from her clients, hoping she didn't give them a poor reflection of the service she provided; certainly the hotel's service in general.

She caught a glance of something. The door opened, though all general attention couldn't care less. She turned to face it proper. A figure stood in the doorway, dressed head-to-toe in black gear and a balaclava; it looked as though it had been pulled on hastily. Only the tender pinkness around the figure's blue eyes and thin lips were visible.

The figure, most likely a boy, seemed to step awkwardly into the foyer, his head seemed to thrash as he glanced constantly from side to side. His gaze seemed to settle onto a fixed spot, and he resumed it, fixed himself there. The boy's body seemed to quiver as he glanced around quickly once again, as though he were trying his best to ignore the funny glances he was receiving from the clients. His hands then seemed to shake off their quiver, and one shot straight for the belt at his back. She recognized the movement.

He pulled it out. Wielded it threateningly between hands clad in fingerless gloves. More eyes caught sight of the weapon, some took more notice of the boy's stature, their eyes whizzed up and down in quick analysis. The whole room became drawn to the spectacle, stuck on the border between fear and relief.

Maybe more would've recognised the fear first, were it not for the high-pitched, wobbly voice full of nerves that erupted from the foyer's centre, 'E-Everyone get down, th-this is er…stick-up!'

Their eyes remained fixed to the figure, their giddy laughs and confused grins broke the tension; the boy could do nothing but stand their helplessly, with an uncertain gleam in his eyes, as if the weapon he held would blow at any second.

_Well, that's suspicious…._

She took out the napkin from her pocket again, folded open her cell phone. Her gaze and her thumb followed the pattern of each digit as she dialled the number.

-/\*_;)(-

Her cell phone rang, vibrated in her pocket. Switch caught it quickly before it could last out a minute and pulled it up to her ear. As Apoc placed the last gun on the bed, he wiped his brow on the back of his hand, let his gaze settle on her.

'Right, yeah, ok, will do.' She nodded finally before switching off her cell phone and stuffing it back into her pocket.

'Was that Morpheus?' He smiled.

'Yes, he says that if we see anyone then we need to direct them to the foyer.'

'Right,' Apoc grinned, 'in that case, I think I'll head downstairs for a drink.'

Switch frowned his way, 'I don't think that's wise.'

'Calm down, Switch, it only takes one person to man the room.' He chuckled.

She frowned then, before sighing, 'Alright, but the next time we meet, I'll ask for your signal.' She narrowed her eyes then, 'Do you know it?'

'Yep!' he grinned, and, with the back of his left hand facing her, held up four fingers, 'and how will I know it's you?'

Pulling her hands into fists, she knocked them together at the sides, 'think you can remember that?' she frowned.

'Sure', he smiled. His eyes went half-mast, and he reached out to cup her cheek.

'What?' she growled.

'Nothing,' he smirked, and pulled her close, 'I'll see you soon, ok?'

'Never mind that, just focus for once.'

His smile grew wider, 'Ok,' he leaned into her, their lips met, settled briefly, she pushed him away gently.

'Go, now.' She breathed, the edges of her lips perked.

He nodded, and released his hold, he made for the door.

-/\*_;)(-

The weather turned suddenly. He'd expected heat, but somehow, that had all changed as soon as he'd touched down from the phone box. It coated the pavement in light spots, adorning it with a shimmer that reflected the cordial light from inside. A wind was stirring up, howling and blowing against him, giving what he would've normally noted as little bites at the only naked spots of skin it could reach. But but ving little bites at the little naked spots of skin it could reach. reflected the cordial light from inside. hardly cared for it.

There was once a time when it was a forecast he dreaded the most, but somehow, it had become one he had missed, and yet, it had transcended into rain that had lost its cold sting. His skin had become dull to its efforts, now that it had become fully aware of the minute pinpricks of feeling that reality had to offer. He wouldn't be surprised, if numbness was to become a new companion here.

A vibration seemed to course through his pocket, he could disregard the effects of the weather as he retained his steely gaze; neutral, unsurprised. Pulling it out, he pushed the green button before it could ring, and pressing it to the woollen material, he strained a little for the muffled voice.

"Yeah, what's wrong?" he waited then on a response, hardly closing his eyes as raindrops smattered his lashes, "right," he nodded, "really?" he scowled, "ok, don't worry. I'll be there as soon as I can," he tried to sound out his sympathy. "Don't take any sudden action; leave it to me." He nodded, "alright, thank you."

He hung up then, pushed the cell phone back into his pocket. Reaching for the back of his belt, he sprang up from the wall. The door wasn't far from his side, and as he pushed it open, he pulled out his gun. The foyer was a bright mass of people; all eyes were on him from the moment he set foot in the place. Their eyes were especially hanging on every shine that the black metal in his hands reflected. Now was the time for action, let the plan truly begin.

"He's not fucking kidding!" his deep scream echoed across the walls, "Everybody get DOWN!" a ruckus of trembling screams went up through the foyer, the women were down first, their children clutching them desperately at their mothers' knees, followed by some of the men, squatting, but unsure.

'What are you waiting for?' the smaller one cried, puffed out his chest and waved the gun at them, his previous nerves seemed to have faded, 'you wanna go sky high?' a few more of the feeble ones ducked, but some still held their stance and their gazes with them both.

"You fuckin' dicks, I'd listen to him if I were you!" he couldn't hide the humour of it all, "he's a poor fuckin' shot at the best of times, so if you don't want a warning shot up your ass I suggest you get down!"

'Yeah!' he boasted, 'could hit your head too! BOOM, head shot!' he laughed giddily. The rest seemed to fall into the majority position, ducking down, shaking.

A delightful laugh echoed through the foyer, sudden, abrupt, and his eyes darted towards her. She had stood up from a close huddle, wearing a black dress that hugged tightly at her curves.

'Oh, I see!' she laughed, and softly she made brave steps around the others, despite their harshly uttered warnings. 'It doesn't matter people!' she called, 'They're just strippers, see?' she pulled out some bills from her purse and shimmied towards them, 'Come on, do a little dance-!'

He pressed the barrel to her temple, forced her down, "Do I look like a fuckin' stripper? Huh?" he screamed in her ear. She shook her head violently, and slowly retreated to her knees with her hands held high. The money fell then from between her fingers, skidded along the polished floor lightly.

He caught the sight of something, a flash of blonde; he turned his barrel to it. "You!" he called, "Behind the desk! GET UP!" slowly, the head rose from behind the desk, shaking, "hands in the air! I don't want to see anything in your hands!" he smirked, shook his gun to the side, "Now get over here!" he ordered. She nodded quickly, quivering, and stepped out from behind the desk.

His eyes narrowed on her, with each shaky step, tears were beginning to sprout at the edges; she still came closer, until she was stood just a couple of feet away. His smile grew, broadened, but he could guess from her reactions, cruelly. As she dropped slowly to her knees, her jacket creased, he could spot something white. He locked his gun on her.

"What's in your pocket?" he growled, he indicated with his barrel.

She gulped hard, 'a-a napkin.' She whispered.

Leaning into her, he pressed the barrel to her temple, and whipped the napkin out from her pocket. Opening the folds, a smirk enveloped his lips, before he tore it up, throwing the pieces onto the floor. Straightening up proper, he released her temple.

"Nice fuckin' try," he growled, "thought you'd call someone on us?"

A shot rang out, their screams echoed through. She fell onto her side, cowered from the smoking hole in the floor. "Don't." He snarled, "If you don't be a hero, then you won't get shot!" he called out to them all, with each person he eyed, they were able to peer into the seemingly empty hole in return.

'Now listen up!' the smaller one yelled, 'all of you are stayin' here! No one leaves the building! If anyone makes a break for it, they're goin' to find a bullet in their ass!' he glared round then at his accomplice and pointed towards a door at the side of the desk. 'Get everyone else down here.' he let go of his previous mirth, his features seemed stern, steely. 'Make sure no one's left.'

"Right!" he nodded.

He could feel it, his heart thumping madly in his chest, still some feeling there. Would reality offer more? He frowned then, and as he pulled open the door, he left the hostages in the care of his accomplice.

-/\*_;)(-

Edward's eyes were fixed on the screen, narrowed in concentration as Tank and Dozer worked vigorously beside him. One typed on the keyboard, the other relayed instructions; he found himself distracted from his sight by the sound of one's quick tongue. They were working together as a formidable pair, somehow alone in their understanding, but it worked out better for them. He couldn't help but admire their teamwork, his eyes softened at the sight as he gazed from the screen, then on to them. A cold shiver ran up his spine at some distant memory.

Something seized his shoulder, he jolted then. Whizzed round, Morpheus smiled down at him.

'Edward, why don't you get something to eat?' Morpheus suggested warmly, but Edward didn't return the gesture.

"No," he shook his head, and hastily returned his gaze to the screen, "I've got to support you all from here; that means no breaks and no distractions.

'Food is not a distraction,' he smiled, his gaze settled on Edward's face, catching onto to its hardened determination; he sighed, 'but I can see where you're coming from.'

'Morpheus?' Neo called from his seat as he laid back into it, his voice held a serious tone, 'it's time for us to jack in.'

Morpheus nodded in response, 'Very well, Edward.' He smiled, he clapped his hand onto Edward's shoulder, 'for Zion's sake, I hope we succeed.' He drew his hand over it; let it drop to his side. As he made his way to a seat, Dozer pushed past him, stepped between the seats. The man was stood behind them both, taking a jack-line from its stand.

Tearing his gaze once again from the screen, he caught the subtle nod between the brothers, caught the shudder of each body as a jack forced its way into their body. His fists tightened, his face hardened.

_For Trinity's sake, I hope you succeed. _

-/\*_;)(-

The darkness swarmed around, locked her in place. On the surface, her skin seemed to have grown accustomed to a numbness that spread from the kneaded imprints. A stony coldness had washed over her, left her swimming inwardly for breath, struggle to the surface against some dark sea that dipped, crashed in waves into the inside of her skin. It dipped once again; the waves crashed above her, her head swam with dizziness, hardly able to lash from it.

She curled herself into a ball. The sea inside seemed to brim then, crash against her face, find some means of escape and it crawled down her cheeks in steady beads.

Her weight seemed to shift, as if being peeled from the boards. Some distant padding, some effort of flesh, some whirling of millions of presences was working before her. She felt it then, some hard thing, strong enough to take her weight, was leaning into her back, or was she in it? She could hardly tell, but at least she knew she wasn't lying on her back. The sea inside crashed into her side, left her with more water to kick through, though the tide still knocked her aside, left her spinning towards some deep bottom.

The voices seemed to grow, increase in volume as the slog of buzzing and water seemed to ease away. Somehow, she found herself tuning in.

'…unconscious.' The voice held that certain quality, something that gave the sea a graver chill.

"Either way," a sharp voice, much closer, not far from her ear, "if you're in there, we're heading out. But, keep thinking about my offer, will you? You'd be better off without them. You know that, right?" a chuckle seemed to swell from it.

The pads of flesh seemed to grow distant then, the creaking of floorboards as they took some extreme weight seemed to relax, their tension released. Something seemed to lock in place, it seemed darker then, it peered through the edges of her blindfold.

Her mouth seemed to gape, as if gasping for breath. The sea seemed to swell, pushing up to the top of her head, forcing pressure there; to find any form of breath was a task that was getting harder every minute. It brimmed up to the top, though more escaped; the air was growing less, pulling at her ankles, pulling her down. The further she sank, the bigger the lump in her throat grew, only wobbles of sobs could escape; cries from deep within, her soul, smaller than it used to be, sinking in the sea. It cried for life, for something tangible yet transparent, found nothing.

-/\*_;)(-

Fat wet drops danced along the piping, falling thickly as it dripped from them onto the cobbled pavement, raining from the grey swollen curtain of cloud above, to endure the ride down, only to shatter on the plastic below; a harsh disturbance that did little to fracture their focus, to distract. It drummed against the shoulders of shiny black leather, rolled down their sleeves in quick channels, slithered across the tight knots of their knuckles.

It rolled down his face, he cared little for its chilling bite, or its cool refreshing touch; neither mattered as he turned to face him, as he nodded to him against the squeak of leather, 'Are you ready?'

Neo simply propped his shades behind his ears, balanced them on the bridge of his nose before glancing his way; simply nodded.

He closed the gap between them both, and reaching, placed a hand on his shoulder; didn't retract from the wet chill, squeezed it. He pulled his mouth to his ear, let out a low whisper, 'whatever you do, don't hold back.' He withdrew then.

'Right,' Neo nodded.

'Roy and Mouse should be in the hotel by now, everyone should be distracted.' His voice held a steady tone, ready for the mission ahead, 'hopefully, we won't have to worry about anyone getting in our way.' He stepped and reached for the door knob, grasped it, pulled it open and waited as Neo strolled through past him. Entering, he shut the door behind him, leaving hardly any trace of their entrance.

'Well, this is awkward,' Neo uttered as Morpheus came to stand beside him. The room was tiled with a white brightness, hot, stuffy; the air seemed to be forever clogged with steam and the roar of gas flames. At some side of them, a pot seemed to be boiling over. Neither were they alone, men in their white hats, coats and aprons stared, their eyes filled with bewilderment, even anger at the inopportune moment of their arrival; an unseen spanner in the works.

Morpheus grinned a little, reached out and took a gun from his belt, 'then we'll just have to take this one step at a time.' He cocked his gun towards the men, and began in a calm voice, 'everyone, this is a matter of utmost importance; if you could make your way to the foyer, no one will be harmed.' He arched an eyebrow behind his rounded shades, smiling still, 'do we have an understanding?'

'You bastard!' a red-faced chef blurted, 'we're on a tight schedule here-!'

Neo pressed his gun to the man's head, and administered a cold glare, 'he may be a patient man, but I'm not. If you don't go to the foyer, I'll bring a whole new meaning to the term Iron Chef, catch my drift?'

The man bared his teeth in defiance, but slowly turned round towards their exit, signalling for the others to follow him. The roaring of flame stilled then, dying from all audible reckoning, as did the steam.

'Thank you,' Morpheus smiled, 'your cooperation is much appreciated.'

'Come on,' Neo growled, 'there's no time for formalities, we have to hurry!'

'Very well,' Morpheus nodded, and as the cooks left, they followed them out of the kitchen, ran for the stairs at the end of the corridor.

-/\*_;)(-

He shut the door to the stairwell behind him. The corridor was hardly a hall that boasted clarity, its walls seemed to be coated in deep, dull colours, the very air itself seemed to be clogged with a grey muted buzz that turned all feign detail into translucent lumps and squares that happened to be present. The only aid for clarity he could figure on was the grey light that had filtered its way into existence from some bright crack in the doors from windowed-rooms, or brighter ones where the occupants favoured the cordial light the bulbs could emit.

He gripped his gun tight. He would have to narrow his eyes for some form of direction from here on in as the objects and squares still carried their vibrating mosaics. As he stepped forward, he pressed his hand to the wall for guidance, expecting dull needles, instead finding a smooth wall as and where it should be. His deduction became clearer, as he stepped forward, his footsteps echoed across the walls along with the creaks of the floorboards beneath. His teeth bared, he seemed to wince with each step, as if each groan of the boards were striking him across the face.

He just had to hope that some clarity had been achieved as he gazed about him; he was beginning to recognize some shade of deep green on the specific rectangles he assumed were doors. At each top centre of them, he could make out, shining numbers of a metallic gold against the grey light. He studied the number before him to be sure.

_270…._

He stood still in his stance; the buzz was beginning to fade a little, leaving room for the faint light to come through, to reach his eyes. He could tell now, that both from sight and sound, he was alone. He let his hand slip from the handle of his gun, and, cautiously, he grasped the door knob, carefully twisted it. It squeaked; he could feel the lock release from its jamb, but the door remained in place. He released a sigh, the door was locked.

Something banged against the wall. More of the buzz seemed to fracture. He jolted, froze, a creaking persisted through the air; he hadn't moved an inch since the bang. His eyes whizzed for the source of the sound, his gaze fell then on some break in the grey, a door that had been left ajar, emitting a bright, cordial light that filtered into the corridor.

He stepped slowly in its direction, and studied carefully the number on the door…274. He flattened his back against the wall; the creaking had grown louder since as sporadic gasps and moans prevailed. The heat rose in his balaclava, but he rolled his eyes to the sounds, belying then a different mood.

He placed his hands flat against the door, pushed it open, cocked his gun and screamed out, "Put your hands up! NOW!" he found himself staring, almost blankly, his gun lowered. They clutched the sheets to their bodies; slick with sweat, their mouths gaped and gasped for whatever air they were missing out on before, their hair stuck wetly to their brows.

He lunged forward then, regardless, "I said hands UP!"

The couple yelped, and cowered before his orders, the woman clutched herself to her partner, 'P-Please, w-we just, w-we were just-!' she whimpered.

"Don't make me repeat myself!" he yelled.

The man straightened himself onto his knees, trying to gain some height, 'O-Ok,' the man interjected, and 'j-just don't shoot!' with a nod to his partner, they both lifted their hands and the sheets fell from their grasps, the material heaped by their knees. He stood there, wide eyed, before averting his gaze.

"Fan-fuckin'-tastic." He groaned, turned his gun back on them again, "just go down to the foyer! Now!" he motioned his barrel to the door. The couple nodded quickly, and they crawled from their bed, "and put some fuckin' pants on!" he growled, "god forbid you make the old folks jealous." As they hastily pulled on whatever clothing they could snatch up, they darted past him and they left the room, he could hear their footsteps echoing down the corridor from where he came.

His gun dropped in level; his shoulders drooped and relaxed as he sighed finally. His gaze settled on the bed before him, its wrinkled sheets were strewn across the bed, spilled haphazardly onto the floor. He let his eyes shut, his breathing regain some rest from its previous tension; he could feel his cheeks heat.

_Those fools…how could they…even in times of war…?_

His eyes shut tighter; he couldn't suppress the memories once they were starting to surface from some deep wave of his mind.

_Earthy scents and the smell of fresh air clambered into his nostrils, as did that musty odour of effort-given sweat as he pressed his nose into the back of his neck. He breathed it in deeply, relished it, and took in the bristle of golden hair as it prickled on his brow. He smiled into it, tightened his embrace around him, he'd laid there for hours. _

_He had stared through what peripheral vision he had in his position of weakness onto the form of a broken man, shuddering and quaking as tears dripped easily down his face and as sobs racked his body. The words the man had spoken, he could hardly forget them, 'in this world, when someone loves and fawns over you like that…you can't let the opportunity pass you by…you have to grab a hold of it…grab it tight, and never let it go for all your worth. Because, especially in this business, you never know when something or someone will come along and take it from you. It could all be gone…so quickly. You have to savour it while you can…or, you'll lose….'the man blubbered, sunk to his knees, weak with longing. _

_He sat stiffly before him, rigid in his stance; the boy's cheeks flushed up, wide-eyed against his gaze. The golden orbs were somewhat fearful, his cheeks flared, his lips parted and quivered yet he made no effort to withdraw from him. Other thoughts clouded his mind, he seemed unable to shake them free, and his brows knitted under the strain, his lips felt dry, yet he shuffled forward; some need to hold that gaze, some need to confirm all suspicions, some need to quench some unwanted thirst overcame him. He leaned in closer, the boy's eyes shut, almost expecting the inevitable, wanting it to befall him…? Did he want it…?_

He shook his head violently, hoping the wave of memories would wash up on some godforsaken shore where they would linger, untouched. He gripped his gun tightly, backed from the room, turned then to face the corridor before him. He let out quick breaths, steeled himself with teeth bared.

_Shit…they probably heard me…._

He couldn't deny the ruckus he had created in entering the room, or the fact that some distant being would've picked it up, but he couldn't let those thoughts cease all other motion, and he stepped back out into the corridor, pulled the door slightly shut, so as to prove that true. Bright coloured clouds spotted his sight as his eyes, used to the light, became partially blinded by the still present buzz. At least some of the cordial light had spilled onto the wall opposite, giving him a new plane of sight and a new form of clarity.

He stepped out into the corridor then, and with clearer sight, turned to face down the corridor where he'd yet to tread. Narrowing his eyes still, amidst the mixture of dull colour and cordial light he could make out a break in the wall some strides ahead, a corner to turn. A weight sank in the pit of his gut, but he shook it from his mind.

_Come on, need to focus!_

He flattened his back, and took steps towards the break, arching his back inwards over each doorknob he felt prod his back, without letting them jab. Now two doors down, he held up his gun, ready, kept it close. He could feel little beads of sweat trickle down his brow from beneath the balaclava, drenching it.

Soon, his left hand found the corner and he gripped it tight. He took in deep breaths, had to steady himself; slowly, he twisted round, glared down towards the new long space of muted blur.

He pulled back suddenly, flattened again against the wall, his breathing heaved in quick movements. He could feel it, wrenching, twisting in his gut; he gripped it tight and gulped away the growing lump in his throat, hoping to swallow the memory with it.

_Just calm down!_

He allowed himself several deep breaths; shut his eyes, regardless of any immediate danger. He could hear them, echoing against the black canvas, slowly growing, getting closer, building into some bland crescendo, he waited. He opened his eyes, turned to face out towards the break, something had turned that corner.

The suit emitted a deep green glint, reflected by the cordial light; he could make out more then, his hair was a short, neat brown and from his right ear a curled wire stretched down into the front of his suit. He concentrated his gaze, further down the corridor, where the Agent was making his slow reverent steps towards the glint of two windows, a way of peering through the double-doors.

His eyes narrowed, he rose his gun and aimed; even with his back to him, the Agent still purveyed a destructive aura, even blind-sided he felt like the Agent would be able to kill him; his nerves felt on fire, the numbness clearing. His arm shook from the cruel sensation, he had to steady himself.

_Now's my only chance, I can't waste this!_

-/\*_;)(-

Their guns were poised and ready. They ran up the stairs in long strides, and before they had gained on the second floor, pushed on; the stairwell was full of a grey, clouded dimness. Just on their left, a set of double-doors and by its side, a darker coloured sign that they couldn't make out, they paused for breath.

Flattening themselves against either wall, he glared back at Neo, 'this looks like my floor, yours should be above.' He motioned towards the towering object to his right, before turning back to the glass.

'Right,' Neo nodded, 'I'll go now.' He made ready to retract himself from the wall.

'No, stop.' Morpheus growled, Neo immediately froze, and turned round again to face him. 'An Agent.'

Neo flattened himself back again, and peered through narrow eyes through the right-side window. A cordial light glared behind it in the distance, and with it he could make out some silhouette, its strict figure, the way the light seemed to bounce off their shades. It seemed to grow larger; it was gaining on them with each stride it took.

'He doesn't seem to have seen us.' Morpheus assessed.

'Then he won't be ready for us.' Neo growled, and he raised his gun in response.

'No, this is your chance to run.' He motioned then to his towering exit, 'you have to find Trinity. There is no point in wasting your bullets here.'

Neo frowned through his shades then, but kept his temper in control, she was more important, 'fine, I'll see you later.' He pushed himself off the wall.

-/\*_;)(-

He pulled the trigger, his bullet cut through the gloom, something snapped, shattered. The Agent turned to face him, portraying a cold severity that reflected the light harshly from his shades, he couldn't help but flinch.

The Agent ran forward. He pushed himself from the wall, and fired his gun as he ran. _Now he'll dodge!_

The Agent stopped abruptly, seeing the glint of the bullets. He bent one way, stretched to another.

-/\*_;)(-

He kicked out. The shot shattered the glass. Neo fell back. The shot missed his head by inches. Neo glared at him, dazed; more distant shots called him to attention, and he flattened himself against the wall. They pierced the window, dented the door's wood, before ceasing altogether.

Giving a little sigh, Morpheus peered through the window, 'it looks like I'll have to wait to get through while Roy is dealing with the Agent,' and he turned towards Neo, 'you head to the next floor, I'll join you later.'

Still regaining some breath from the shock, he nodded, 'Right,' he pushed himself off the wall and headed for the towering object, heading for the next floor. 'Thanks for the save,' he gave a small smile.

'No problem,' Morpheus retained his stern look, and turned back to the glass, 'just save Trinity.'

-/\*_;)(-

He smirked, ran forward and flung a punch. The Agent reacted quickly, grabbing his arm before spinning him into the wall. He grunted against it, losing his gun. The Agent sent another punch, but he blocked it, kicked out, the Agent wheeled back out of the way. As he got to his feet, a sudden pain thrummed through his gut, and he gripped it, falling back into the wall.

Through heavy breaths, his gaze settled back on the Agent, now flinging a punch his way. Teeth bared, he grabbed the Agent's arm, thrust out his elbow, caught him in the face. He thrust again, the Agent sidled from the hit, he let go of his arm, kicked him down. He had to put an end to it. He reached down, bent for his gun, was kicked aside. He was sent sprawling across the floor; his back hit the other wall. The Agent got to the gun first, walked forward, and aimed it at him. His eyes grew wide, he gulped, through the muted colours, he could see right into the black barrel of the gun. From what he could tell, the Agent's expression hadn't changed, still cold, no sense of guilt.

_Shit…Is this it…?_

He kicked out at his feet, the Agent fell forward, and a shot rang out. He punched up at the Agent's plexus, and he fell onto his side, another shot rang out. He fell back, the pain burned through his wound as blood drip down the side of his head, it just grazed him. The Agent was up quickly, ran forward.

_Wait…wait…._

He kicked up; the gun fell from his hand. He made a grab for it, caught and shot. The Agent wheeled back, another shot, the Agent hit the wall, again, he wouldn't stop shooting; he had to be sure. He heard the weapon click, he bared his teeth, frustration, threw it, got the Agent in the forehead. The Agent toppled and fell forward into a heap. He waited tensely, his hands gripped into fists in case…the Agent made no move to get up.

Suddenly, the Agent's body started to contort; he watched with wide eyes, shuffled back as its limbs twisted, its body turned onto its back and its apparent shell dissipated into the mute buzz. The body became still, limp; he stared, bewildered.

The glint had disappeared from the corpse's face, except for a dull sheen that seemed to coat its eyes; its hair lacked the brown neatness of before, but portrayed a brighter colour that matched the cordial light that spilled onto it. The deep green shine had fizzled away too, leaving, again, a somewhat lighter coloured jacket, no, red, like a scarlet red; equal to blood. He narrowed his eyes.

_Isn't that…one of the hotel staff?_

He shuffled round onto all-fours, and started to crawl forward. He flinched back suddenly. The face stared up at him, blue eyes wide.

_Havoc…_

His blond hair was a ruffled mess, clinging wetly to his brow; his blue dull eyes stared wildly into him. The lump came back up in his throat; he tried to swallow it back, but a heat was growing in his chest, keeping the lump afloat. His breathing quickened, heaved sporadically, he covered his mouth as he sank down onto his butt. The face before him was growing paler as he felt a growing wetness seeping around his knees. He gulped as he tried to avert his gaze from the lifeless orbs. He had to direct his thoughts somewhere else.

_Those Agents should've heard me, they should all be here by now, I should be dead; but they've left their comrade, they haven't bothered to assist him…why?_

He tried to trail his mind back, figure away from the dead to the man before he was dying. His face hardened, he had pulled the trigger, it didn't hit the Agent, but it had hit something. He'd heard it snap. What was the Agent wearing…?

_Then is that wire…a way of communication…? Like some remote radio wire…without the back pack?_

He tried to force himself up; the joints of his legs seemed to buckle weakly, he forced strength into them. Looking down, the wetness was still pressed into his knees, dripping; he made himself step around the corpse. He took once last glance back; even the muted darkness couldn't mask the man's strained face, he had to turn from it again, instead turning to face down the corridor round the corner. He looked towards the door at his left, and through narrowed eyes studied the number.

_280…_

He had to carry on. He nodded to himself firmly and allowed himself to carry on down the hall. He stopped in the middle of his stride and turned to glance from the corner of his eye, his former friend, or the form of him. How could he have known? He was an Agent then, but he isn't now, does this make him a…? He shook the thought away, faced forward proper, and forced himself to carry on.

-/\*_;)(-

All around him was a sea of darkness, being fought away by dots of light, flooding through the windows below in illuminated specks, darting in radiant, neon colours to the melody floating somewhere below.

_~The bass, the rock, the mic, the treble~_

Bars of green flew across his suit black trousers, alighting onto his pocket-tucked hands, flew down along his right thigh. The trousers there bagged at the top, made apparent by the strap of his thigh holster.

_~I like my coffee black just like my metal~_

A formation of red dots hit his face, he squinted to it, but it couldn't do enough to make his smile falter. It fell down across his neck, down his light blue shirt as if trying to incur some stain, but it left no mark as it zipped down towards the jacket tied around his middle, and sidled off.

_ ~I can't wait for you to shut me up~_

With each step, the music grew closer, tugging at his lips, dragging them into a large grin as the bass thrummed through the walls, against his skin as he dragged his fingers across it.

~_Shut-it-up!~_

It danced through him, reached through each joint; he couldn't help but hop down each step. He gulped; his mouth was dry, hoping to be slaked from thirst.

_ ~Shut-it-up!~_

Jumping the last two steps, he grabbed a hold of the door handle for balance and pulled open the set of double doors.

_~Oooh, la la la~_

Before him, the music thrummed in his ears as the room was alight with neon colours, whizzing in their multitude across the walls and floors.

_~The bass, the rock, the mic, the treble~_

His eyes then fell onto the people, crowding around the bar in front, and he grinned from ear to ear.

_ ~The bass, the rock, the mic, the treble~_

The smile spread wider on his lips.

~'_Cuz I can't wait for you to know me up~_

They danced, ignorant bluepills, all of them; all knew and cared little for the plan that was taking place, or anything for that matter. All they could do, all they wanted to do, was push back the drinks, drown away their senses; as if they weren't dull enough already.

~_I can't wait for you to shut me up~_

He reached for the gun at his holster and aimed for the ceiling.

~_I can't wait for you to shut me up~_

The shot rang out above the music, the dancing ceased as glass shattered across the floor below, the people parted upon its collision. Surprised murmurs ran through.

~_And make me hip like badass~ _

'Ok guys!' but his voice vanished within the bass and into the blur, the music had yet to cease; once again their senses were not aware of the unusual, only the few exceptions had noticed, the DJ wasn't one of them.

_~I don't find it funny right now~ _

He aimed his gun again; many caught sight of it and parted in their occasional wave of instinct.

_~I'm on my way to the party right now, right now~_

He couldn't help but grin and put his frustration aside.

_~I don't find it funny right now~_

The people parting before him, the whole sense of it felt biblical, he was seen as the commander, a partial creator, no…the bringer of the End, yeah; that was a more eloquent term.

_~Because the break, the break, the break~_

He fired again.

_~I can't wait for you to shut me u-!~_

Yelps of surprise and fearful cries, a deathly silence seemed to overwhelm the room. They seemed ready to flinch, dash, but the mere sight of him and the gun he held froze them in place. He had managed to strike the very fear of death in their hearts, and the humour of it all had not escaped his notice.

'Let's try again!' he roared and all heads turned onto him; finally their senses had been stirred into action. 'Ok, show's over! All of you need to get your asses to the foyer!'

Through the surface of the crowd a wave seemed to swell before it spat out the cause of the disruption. The young man stomped forward.

'What right do you have to tell _us _what to do, _huh_? We're paying customers!' he yelled.

'Do _you _have a gun?' he smirked in response.

The man stared at him with a hardened gaze, but didn't return an answer.

'Didn't think so,' he smiled, 'now everyone, file out in pairs and you can have a free martini later,' he grinned, 'if you're good.' He added, and slowly, the masses had filled the gap of their momentary parting, leaving the room as they gave him glares of disgust as they left.

He stared on through them, his arms akimbo, and watched the scene with a satisfied smile as they moved out of their way to do his bidding, what he had told them do; he couldn't help but grin at the amount of control he had over these puny bluepills. Then, in his peripheral vision, he caught the sight of something, and aimed his gun on the man as he tried to leave from behind the bar.

'And where do you think _you're _going?' he smiled.

The barman stared, not into his eyes, but into the one eye that held his death warrant, before looking back into his gaze nervously, 'w-well, you said we had to go, erm…that is, do _I _have to?'

'Not if you make me a martini you don't.' He smirked.

-/\*_;)(-

The siren roared throughout their universe. They had to rip off their blindfolds, become aware of the true reality they had fallen from, relinquish the blindness they had greeted before and watch as their tanned banners dissipated into the whiteness of the construct.

Thaddeus sat up quickly in his seat, and from there found the source of the siren as it roared throughout the walls of the ship. He quickly strode for the ladder from the top deck, only to be greeted by the panic that his crew had tried their best to conceal.

'Captain, we were heading for junction 23 like you ordered.' One member called.

'Robbie started picking up signals.'

'We were checking the HR scans.'

'We weren't sure what to do.'

He couldn't help but pick up the uncertainty in their statements, pick up their distress; he didn't let them deter him from giving aid. They parted as he came to settle beside the operator, with Jue settling close behind.

'The readings don't make any sense.' The operator, Robbie, stared up at him from his seat, awaiting his opinion, and more importantly his guidance. The orb of the radar before him cast out its rays; the white dots it made appeared in numerous waves, swirling together as they branched out.

'They read like sentinels.' Thaddeus analysed through narrowed eyes.

'But there's thousands of them.' Jue speculated.

A thought flickered across his mind, took over all other musings, and controlled him in craning his neck, 'directly above us.'

She stared at him, bewildered, 'is that even possible?'

The siren around them continued to roar, and the radar zeroed in on more sentinels in retaliation, their swirling limbs cascading behind them.

'We've got company,' Robbie frowned.

'Get us out of here,' Thaddeus ordered. The operator reached up quickly, flicked a switch above him and took hold of the console as the ship lifted into life, he could feel its movements as it swerved smoothly from its landing space and down a wormhole. He glared down at the radar, the blip of their ship was apparent in its existence both in reality and electronically, but they weren't the only ones. There were sentinels, heading straight for them.

He stared out of the vast screen before them, they hadn't caught sight of them yet, nor he of the sentinels.

'We're cut off!' Robbie called, the frustration rising in his voice.

Thaddeus frowned down at the radar, 'There's an intersection up above.'

'It's unchartered.'

'Take it!' he ordered.

He looked out through the screen, and quickly grabbed hold of the seat for balance, the nose of the ship tipped towards a pipe above and the ship swung round to meet it.

He bared his teeth, almost growled, 'head to the gun turrets.'

-/\*_;)(-

There was a sudden brightness as he stepped out into the corridor, muted only by the shades he wore. It was unexpected, it should've left him with some feeling of certainty, and yet the full clarity of sight had left him with nothing but unanswered questions. He'd taken the necessary precautions before stepping out, but felt it had somehow gone to waste, when the corridor seemed to play host to some movie set for a post-apocalyptic thriller, dormitories for the would-be inhabitants of a now barren wasteland.

He frowned, his hand slipped down to the handle of his gun, and he grasped it tight, looked out down the corridor before him. He could clearly see the break in the wall, the one that opened up some strides away to the right of him and promised a new lane of corridor not unlike the floor below. He could peer right down to the other end, where a pair of doors stood like stationary guards to the places behind and yet he couldn't help but feel a well of uneasiness twist in his stomach.

He'd expected Agents that he needed to be wary of, sentient beings on patrol, all ready to defend their leader against _him, _the intruder. And yet…no one had come forth as part of their leader's mighty army.

He narrowed his eyes behind the shadows of his shades.

_ It's strange; it's almost too easy…_

He took steps down the corridor, studying the numbers as he went, he wasn't close yet: 381…379…

_The Agent down stairs may have been strong, but, I can't help feel it would've been easy to take down. And now, there aren't any at all. It's almost as if they want us to take her back…something doesn't feel right…what are they up to?_

-/\*_;)(-

He'd made himself comfortable in one of the seats, hunched over the bar like a regular, waiting with a patient grin. He was glad then, he'd helped, he'd done his bit, and now would come the sweet reward in the form of a coned glass half full of a dirty translucent liquid, and topped with an olive. His eyes positively gleamed as his perfect fantasy was set before him, he licked his lips thoughtfully, yes perfect, but not quite complete.

Taking a hold of the glass's stem, he tipped the liquid down parted lips, and laughed with a sort of glee as he caught the olive between his teeth. Setting the glass back on the bar surface, he pushed it back towards the barman and began to chew his well-earned olive.

'Keep 'em coming.' He smiled, but not without being shot an agitated look by the barman.

'Are you going to pay me for these or what?' he frowned.

'When I'm done.' He grinned simply.

As the man turned away from him, he folded his arms, hunched over once again, giving a heavy sigh. The edges of his lips perked in the momentary crash of feeling, in that almost immediate wave of drowsiness that weighed in on his lids. He shook it away, rubbed his eyes, and that's when he became aware.

In the deathly silence, only balanced by the noise of colour, came the soft clack of heels, coming closer, heading his way. He perked up, turned to meet them and grinned.

Through the faint darkness and swirling colours, her curvy silhouette stepped across the dance-floor, her white knee-length dress hugged around her. A bar of green danced across her face, across her soft smile, shining in her eyes, hardly squinting from it. His eyes slowly scanned down the curves of her body, finding a dapple of scarlet spreading outward from her breasts, his eyes widened, but not just from the influence of alcohol.

His grin grew as she came up beside him

'Hey, Laura,' he smiled widely as she bent to hug him, 'what are you doing here?'

'I thought I'd come and see you.' She gave him a bright smile.

His brow rose, 'thanks,' he grinned, 'drink?'

'Sure,' she nodded, and she sat herself in the seat beside him.

Again that night the fantasy became another reality as a new glass was slid towards him, but he gave it up easily in the simplest of motions as he slid it towards her instead. He gave it up, and watched as she eyed him, picked it up by the stem and took a sip before setting it back down on the bar again.

Leaning his head into a propped hand, he slid the other onto the bar and clasped hers, his eyes sunk into half-mast inhabitants, 'so, got any news for me?'

She stared down at her clasped hand, and proceeded to eye him again.

'Like what?' she averted her gaze absently and took another sip of her drink.

'Like how's Mouse?' he grinned, chuckling softly.

'Oh, right,' she set her glass back down, 'he should be on the top floor by now.'

'I see, so everything's going along as planned?' he raised his eyebrows.

'Yes,' she nodded, 'and now that we know Trinity's on the third floor, we should be out of here as soon as Mouse gets her.' She let a smile slide onto her lips, giving out reassurance.

'Why would Mouse be getting her?' his smile faded a little.

'Because that is his objective, to save Trinity, didn't Morpheus tell you?' she frowned a little, showing her agitation.

'Well,' he chuckled, 'I must have forgotten.'

She narrowed her eyes then, and a scowl fell onto her features, 'honestly, you can be such an idiot sometimes.'

He let go of her hand, 'well that was uncalled for.' His smile fell, 'you're not much better yourself.' His hand fell down to his lap.

'Are you kidding?' she snorted, smirking, 'who else would be there to keep you in line?'

'True,' he smiled thoughtfully, 'but you've forgotten something too.' Suddenly, he pulled it out, pressed it to the back of her head.

She glared into him, wide-eyed, 'forgotten something?' her lips spread wider in mirth, 'what could I possibly have forgotten?'

'The signal for avoiding you, Envy,' he smirked, pressed the tip of it harder against her head, 'now, tell me where Trinity is.'

Her eyes grew wide; her face fell into a frown, before a smirk finally tugged at her lips, 'As if I would tell you.' She snorted; her voice hit a fraction lower.

'Really?' he moved the tip, shot. She screamed out, grasped her leg. His arm wrapped round her shoulder, he pointed the tip up towards her mouth. 'Now do you wanna tell me?'

'Ahhh! FUCK!' she wailed, grasped her bleeding leg, her breathing quickened, 'YOU PIECE OF SHIT!'

'Then you'd better start telling me where she is!' a smile formed on his lips, 'unless of course, you want another one in the leg?' he manoeuvred his gun.

'Fine! Fuck it!' she snarled, 'She's on the third floor!'

'Are you telling the truth?' he growled.

'YES!' she nodded quickly.

'Fine,' he took his arm from around her shoulder, 'and one more tip,' he pressed it back to her head, 'Switch doesn't smile so easily.' The shot rang out about the room. Glass shattered from behind the bar, a shaky scream of fear echoed. The chair clattered to the floor, and with it, the body, lying in its own life-giving fluid pooling out beneath her. Funny, how the proof of its very existence often meant the death of the very thing it was trying to sustain. The proof itself had splashed out onto him, tainting his skin, spreading through the fibres of his shirt. The barman stared down at him, cowering from behind the bar.

He frowned at the gun held in his hand, and with a pitiful look towards the corpse, threw it down at its head.

His gaze settled then on the glass. Scarlet droplets had found their new resting place, clouding, forming, and spreading in the dirty liquid, taking the olive captive and for its own. He frowned as that small piece of treasure had become lost to some unknown infection he'd rather not consume. Sighing, he tipped the rest of the contents onto the body at his feet.

'Sorry about that.' He smiled finally as he fished out his wallet, pulled out a few bills and laid them out on the bar for him. 'That should cover the drinks.' He pointed out towards a door, 'and you can join the others if you want.'

Giving a quick nod, the barman grabbed for the bills and scurried from behind the bar, heading towards the door.

Pressing a hand into his pocket, he brought out his cell phone, dialled in the numbers, pressed it to his ear.

_Geez, never a good place for a martini_

'Morpheus?' he said finally, 'I just got us some information that you're gonna love.' He grinned, 'You bet!' He reached out for the door handle, leaving behind the flashes of neon colour that plagued the room, the bars of green, the squares of lilac, and the dots of red that smattered his head. All around, as the colours formed, they were blinded by flashes of a bright red hue.

-/\*_;)(-

_Just as I expected of you, Roy_

The tension he'd held before left him in one cooling wave, he could let himself relax to know that fate had not yet dealt its cards on one of the crew. He could breathe, let out his relief, and in that same movement, let a smile purvey his lips. Shots rang out in the corridor before him; he was glad to know the bullets weren't coming from the Agent. As Roy threw his gun, he gave a soft chuckle, and as the Agent's body tumbled and contorted, he didn't flinch; he was already used to it.

He frowned then, his eyes narrowed as he gazed intensely through to Roy's frozen body.

_Roy, you've defeated it, move!_

He watched as Roy crawled forward, almost limply before shrinking with a stricken horror or dismay. He clenched his eyes shut sadly; he gripped his gun tighter, let out a low sigh. He could recognize the inward struggle Roy was facing, as he averted his gaze, as he tried with some identifiable failure to get to his feet. Stepping around the body, he took one last glance, before decisively moving on down the corridor.

_Roy, have you really learned your lesson?_

Turning his head at a small angle, he glared from the corner of his eye; behind him was nothing but the same muted darkness. He turned back round to the glass, his eyes widened, a smile broadened.

_You managed to severe the Agent's connection with the others. Accidental or not, you've saved Neo and I a lot of trouble._

He grabbed hold of the door handle, a vibration coursed through his pocket. Taking it up, he pressed it to his ear.

_'Morpheus?'_

'Apoc.' Morpheus uttered in a strained tone into the receiver, 'what is it?'

_'I just got us some information that you're gonna love.'_

His face turned stern, 'will it help us?'

_'You bet!'_

His eyes widened suddenly. A low beep hushed in through the receiver. He pulled the cell phone from his ear, pressed a button and pushed it back into his pocket. His eyes clenched shut, he let out a low sigh, gripped the bridge of his nose.

_Dammit Apoc. You were careless…_

He opened his eyes, bared his teeth, and removed his grip.

_I'm sorry Apoc, I'll have to deal with you later, but for now, we must carry on…I'm sorry…thank you…_

He gripped the door handle once again, pulled it open, and stepped on through. It laid just a few strides away; he took in each step, not fearing the face. The soft glint of blood pooled on the floor, standing with his toes to it, he followed its trail to the corpse before him. He stepped round the pool, his gaze fell to its owner, coming side to side, he studied his features.

_Maybe he looks like a man Roy once knew?_

He folded his arms in thought, frowned in contemplation.

_I wonder if there are people here that are alike to the people of the Beta-Matrix. What's the word…doppelgangers? But, are there a "Matrix" amount of people plugged into the power plant, which the doppelgangers share? Or, could it be there are two identical-._

-/\*_;)(-

A deep monotonous beep. It filled the air, clung and held on as it flooded into the ears of all those who could hear it, promised dread, swept away the crunching split of flesh that had come before. But it did nothing to rid them of its final moments, the body convulsed, thrashed about beneath its straps, releasing blood onto the floor below in spreading pools. The future had already been decided.

Edward glared towards the seats. His eyes widened, as if something had seized his chest. His breathing heaved for some form of stability, his hands tightened into fists against the surface of the desk; he fixed his gaze on the monitor.

"W-What just…happened…?" his eyes seemed to lose focus, the voices around him were beginning to fade into a void of silence he could do little to respond to. Fleeting weight by his feet, a rush of air behind him, beings, maybe…? His grasp on control seemed to weaken, his grip on a sense of light was beginning to loosen; slowly, he was sinking into an unconscious darkness, as if he wasn't conscious either.

-/\*_;)(-

He flattened his back to the wall, glared at the number that held residence over the door, gave it a sense of meaning he couldn't dispute. He narrowed his eyes, his hands slipped down towards his thigh holster, found himself grasping thin air; he cursed himself inwardly. He gritted his teeth, nodded for assertion, before giving the door a couple of side thumps.

Slowly, the door opened outwards, light flooded into the corridor with a cordial glow, carrying into his sight a green glare by the door jamb. She raised her gun, straight at him. He didn't raise his hands.

'Prove who you are.' She growled coldly.

He raised one hand and, back of it facing her, snapped his fingers.

Her green eyes widened, and slowly, she lowered her gun.

"Now you." He growled.

She narrowed them, her gaze remained on him, and cautiously, she lowered her gun, placing it at her feet. She rose, clenched her hands into fists and, backs facing, knocked them together, 2, 3, 4.

He nodded, smirked and stepped in proper as she backed away to give him room.

-/\*_;)(-

A distant click, his head whizzed towards the corridor, and with the movement lost his train of thought. His eyes fell onto the door at his left; its metallic number gleamed in the cordial light…279, and just opposite to his right, 281. With sure steps down the corridor, he studied the numbers that followed, 283, and 285 on the right; 280, and 282 on the left. He smiled to himself.

_The room should be down here._

He strode slowly further down, keeping a tight hold of his gun.

-/\*_;)(-

The buzz of the dim shadows held something within its grasps, held something from all conscious hearing and thought, held a greater darkness that the light had yet to touch. The very thing, the very being it held though had its own consciousness, its own mind, and slowly crept from the darkest canvas of hiding. A smile spread on its lips, blackened by the shadows.

It curled around the corner from its hidden place of respite and found a tall figure making his way down the corridor, grinned eagerly.

-/\*_;)(-

He gaped at the collection before him. The bed was covered from headboard to foot with an assortment of weapons, weighing on the covers; their boxes were piled into a corner, discarded there, otherwise nothing in the room had been shifted or thrown out of place. She, on the other hand, had her gaze focused on him, her arms were crossed.

'You need to head for the third floor soon.' Switch frowned.

He smiled, disregarding her tone, "right, thanks." Stepping to the bed, he settled his gaze over each gun, before picking one up. He pushed it into the thigh holster at his right side, before picking another up and sliding it into the other thigh holster. His fingers slid along the side of another gun, before slotting it into the holster at his belt.

His gaze settled onto the bed post, the wood seemed strangled by the load of straps, "these are the shoulder holsters, right?" he asked.

'Yeah,' Switch nodded impatiently.

Unzipping his jacket, he pulled it off and let it fall behind him at his feet. She narrowed her eyes towards his solar plexus where his vest ended and his pale skin began. The skin of his gut sunk in from the ribs, but not in that same smoothness she last noted.

From the concave sinking of his gut and outwards, lumps and lines of scar tissue seemed to venture, leaving only those ignorant of the man to guess at the scar's origin. It dominated his abdomen, conquered his skin, it would linger on him forever, until the day he died.

He took another holster off the post, and slipping it on, he found himself two handguns; he crossed his arms and slid them in expertly. Picking up his jacket, he pulled it on and zipped it up.

'You must be hot in that hat thing.' Switch growled, 'you know, if you're going to take your time in here then you might as well take it off for a bit.'

"I would, but it was a bitch to put on the first time, and I can't imagine it'll be easier to put on again." He chuckled, before his smile waned to a stern frown, he looked about him, "where's Apoc?"

'He said he was heading downstairs,' she shrugged, 'said he needed a drink.'

"He knows his signal, right?" he narrowed his eyes at her.

'Of course he does, I made sure he knew it before he left.' She scowled.

"I know," he reasoned, "but I wouldn't put it past him to forget." He turned towards the door, "we have to be careful when dealing with the likes of Envy. As far as I know, he can transform into any one of us at will, that's why we made the signals, so that we can tell if he's following us." He reached out for the door handle. A knock came at the door.

'Speak of the devil.' Switch growled.

"Which one?" he faced her, his teeth bared.

Author's note:

Right, I'll apologize right now for the weird metaphorical hoo-ha that I sort of dolloped in here. I was probably too heavy with it, but what's done is done, so I'll say now that I'm sorry if some of the paragraphs got lost in translation and weren't exactly easy to read or make sense of. I could've been better for clarity, but hopefully I'll be less heavy with it on Chapter 21.

Well, it's been a few chapters since we've had a chapter named after a Paramore song, so let's confirm that by saying Chapter was named from Decoy, a song from the album Riot! I do believe. It was a close one between some other titles. This chapter could've been called The Mission (30 Seconds to Mars), Search & Destroy (30 Seconds to Mars again), Guarded (Disturbed), Whisper (Evanescence) or Born for This (another Paramore song). There were other titles in the running, but they were swiftly deleted from the final round. I guess I chose it overall for the title, because it sounds very much like Envy's at work and it of course alludes to Mouse's role. I guess I can't pick out anything specific about the lyrics like I usually do, so if you ever want to check it out on Grooveshark or something then feel free.

It's been a while since I saw the first series of Fullmetal Alchemist, that was until recently when I sat down and watched it with my older brother who hadn't seen the episodes all the way through. Of course, the last episode I watched was Episode 28, which was about when Edward and Alphonse were taken to the Island again to relearn their lesson the last time they were there. It was a nice episode, but it was made funny upon remembering Edward's little confessional when Izumi asked them whether they had answered her riddle. We all remember it, don't we? Al: All is The World! Ed: And I am The One!

Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood doesn't disappoint either, but not in the same place. This one takes place in Episode 12 when Edward and Alphonse take a trip to visit Izumi, and begin to remember times from their childhood when they learned Alchemy under her tutelage. As they are reviewing the lesson (after gaining a beating from Izumi), Alphonse so cleverly points out, Al: Let's see, the circle denotes the circulation of power. In order to call upon and harness this power, one must draw a structural matrix over the circle. (Gasps) But Teacher, you just put your palms together to perform transmutations, don't you? You can do it without drawing the structural matrix? Izumi: If you think about it a certain way I myself am the Matrix. Ed: How do you do it? Tell us, Teacher! Izumi: Perhaps it's something you learn when you see the Truth.

You heard it from her first boys! It's a wonder the Agents didn't track you down and kill you!

Now, for those who were wondering but weren't too sure, the song playing in the background of the nightclub was indeed Shut me up by Mindless Self Indulgence. It just seemed apt and something that would be playing in a nightclub; to be honest, I don't know any dance songs or RnB tunes, so I certainly couldn't pick from any of them. If you like, you can play the song from the beginning of Apoc's section, just to give you an idea of how the scene plays out. I've tried to write it so that the lyrics are in sync with the song, so if you're quick reader, you should get it.

Well, this chapter certainly took a lot out of me to write, but that was because, when I had first initially finished Chapter 20, I wasn't pleased with how it turned out. Some things fell flat, the narrative wasn't great and it certainly needed _more. _It just seemed to skip over some details. So, I made up a new document, and using the original chapter as a guideline, planned a new one, putting more detail into the narrative and adding more sections where they were needed. Oh, and I'm sorry if I added too much metaphorical imagery for your liking in my narrative. It's just my way of making it better. Honestly, I think my best Chapter to date was Chapter 16, in terms of writing style and ever since my writer's block around Chapter 17 and 18, I haven't been able to get back to that quality ye; I haven't been the same since in a way, but I won't let it stop me from writing chapters! So, I'll apologize now if you think there are parts where it stumbles or doesn't read smoothly. That'll be my fault.

In the original chapter 20, I had decided to split it in half, since I had originally planned to fit the whole day of the deal into one chapter. But, given the added sections and the new amount of detail, I decided that including the all of the originally split content would be too much. Saying that, it is already the longest chapter of all now, which is fairly suitable for the 20th Chapter. I'm also going to give you a couple of omakes for your trouble, so I think this will give you plenty to read until Chapter 21. I think here, we're sort of left on a cliff hanger, since we don't yet know the culmination of their efforts. But at least, we have a fair idea of where they are and we've followed everyone concerned if not at least once then at least twice, which seems fair. But what will happen next? You can guess in your reviews, but I won't give any directly right answers, because that will ruin the fun not only for you, but for me as well.

This may seem insignificant, but if you're old enough, then some of you may have seen The Devil's Advocate. It's a film starring Keanu Reeves and some other guy (really can't remember the devil's actor name) but it's one of those weird films where Keanu does a creepy smile, has a weird southern accent AND, not only that, but he actually _shows emotion! _It's a pretty good film from the parts I've seen (it's sort of like me and the Matrix films where I've only seen parts of the whole and have only seen the first one the whole way through). It's always fun to see Keanu Reeves show some emotion, and also fun to write Neo with the emotion he needed.

You know, there's a funny thing as well that I have only just realised. Victor's little brother is called Joseph, which as we know in this crossover, is Alphonse's middle name (though spelt Josef. I know it's funny that they have middle names, but if you think about it, in the first series in the earlier episodes that Edward didn't have any faith and stopped believing long ago, which insinuates that they must've believed before and could've have got middle names as a mark of their mother's faith. I know this is going on the trivia of the first series and not brotherhood, but it seemed right.) Anyway, as I was saying, it seemed funny that Victor's little brother be called Joseph since Vic's middle name be Joseph's as well. Now, before you call me on this, I found out years ago that Victor's Italian name (he is of Italian descent) was Vittorio Giuseppe Mignogna. Now, I also know for a fact that Giuseppe is Italian for joseph. Frankly though, I didn't remember this until recently, so the fact I called him Joseph was completely coincidental; just some funny trivia for you there.

Now, when will the next chapter be out? From the size, I would normally say that it should take about 5 weeks for the next chapter to come out, but I'm afraid that this is no longer the case. Ever since I got writer's block around Chapter 17, I have sort of been excited about the following chapters, but felt stumped in my flow; it's almost as if I've been forcing myself to carry on. Also, I've been over-thinking the narrative and the symbolism, as well letting my mind wander to some unfinished or pre-written project. So, I've decided that now, I'm going to move onto another project for a little while, until the excitement for the matrix crossover comes back and I feel like I can carry on without letting the block bother me! I know this means you'll be waiting on the conclusion to the plan for quite while (and I say that because I don't know how long I'll be migrating to another project for) but that doesn't I'll stop writing. Since most of you will have me on author alert, you should hopefully be getting regular updates on this other project, which I already have in mind. All I can say about it is it won't be a crossover, so it should give me time to recuperate and focus in a whole different way, a sort of change of pace!

Thank you all for your patience and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I'm sorry to tell you about the break, but I hope it won't take too long before the excitement comes back! And don't worry, I won't quit on this story, it will see completion, even if it takes me another year or so!

Thanks once again,

Ophelia Davis

/tmp/uploads/FF_1442475_ 36of36 at 05:15:23 on22/06/2012 Heather


	21. Hold On

Author's note: Thank you so much for your patience! This chapter is dedicated to Tash and, my little operator for making this possible, LightSwitchr. Now, to you all, here's a non-commercialised gift; Happy Valentine's Day! Oh, and as the 3rd of February has gone by, (as according to the Risembool Rangers) Happy Birthday Edward! This is for you too! X

Anyone who has put this story on their alerts will have realised that I've just updated this chapter twice and it's a pretty silly thing to do, right? Well, what was silly in the first place was uploading it with so many silly mistakes that shouldn't be there. Lucky for you all, I've been able to put some time aside to edit the chapter, take away the mistakes and add things that might make sections better, or at least, more coherent. Hopefully, you'll like this version of the chapter better (not that much has changed to be honest); once again, thank you for reading, and sorry for updating it before with so many mistakes. It won't happen again.

Thanks x

Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist and The Matrix do not belong to me but to the brilliant minds of their respective writers, Hiromu Arakawa and The Wachowski Brothers. The re-workings of the plot, as is only possible in the universe of fan fiction, belong to me. Thank you for reading and please enjoy.

'_The wise man does not expose himself needlessly to danger, since there are few things for which he cares sufficiently; but he is willing, in great crisis, to give even his life – knowing that under certain conditions it is not worthwhile to live.' – Aristotle_

He'd left the cordial glow. Left whatever trace of light he had come to know in the corridor behind him to become fully immersed in the thick air, clogged with a grey muted buzz of vibrating mosaics that his eyes had yet to grow accustomed to. All he had to rely on was his own eyesight, his own perspective, his own instincts, if they were indeed to be trusted in an environment he had come to know as being undependable. He counted the doors as he passed and with narrowed eyes, studied the dark shape before him.

From the crack in the door below, he picked up on a soft grey glow, brighter than the semi-darkness he had crept through just moments before. It provided some shape, some definition and detail to what would've normally been a meaningless rectangle. It glinted at the top of the door, emitted a golden, metallic sheen that he pressed his fingers to, stroked along the smoothness of the metal, following its shape, picking up on whatever sense of feeling he could manage, despite its numb reputation.

His lips were taken over by a satisfied smile as he recognised the digits.

_299… if you're here Trinity, I'll get you out._

He let the smile fall, let his hand drop to the doorknob, turn it, and the lock was released from its jamb; he could feel it come loose in his grip, become his to control. His eyes narrowed, he held his gun poised, and slowly, he pushed the door open.

The room seemed to be encased in a bodily shadow, hiding from all who were curious of their defining features. His eyes fell straight onto the square in the middle of the room before him, where a window held residence in its frame, opening up the room to a mute brightness, to the grey sky thundering outside and the rain drumming against the glass. He frowned deeply, and slowly, he stepped in.

As he took in his surroundings, his eyes were beginning to adjust to a new scene of light pouring in, finding some gratitude in it. He was starting to make out the shapes that were once hidden in the room where the grey light considered his eyes akin to a new-born's. He picked up on a thick, soft shape pushed up against the wall. To his right, by another wall, he scanned over a long shape, one he recognized to have more defined curves. On the floor, a blurred texture, mostly flat but for the smooth bumps and wrinkles that protruded from it; supposedly separate from the floor itself.

He stepped further into the room, closer to the grey light; he held out his gun, he turned, his eyes narrowed for more clarity.

The door shut suddenly. He whizzed round. He caught a flash, a glare of reflection that had settled at the wall behind him, hidden in a curtain of shadow that the grey light had yet to reach. He aimed his gun for it, followed the glare as it straightened up from the wall and stepped forward in smooth clacks. A feeling of coldness spread through him, bit at the flesh of his hand; he wanted to retract from it, withdraw along with his weapon, but he stood his ground.

'Show yourself.' He growled lowly.

'Morpheus….' the voice produced a cold, velvety smoothness that clawed at his ears, irritated them, 'So, we meet at last, face-to-face.'

'And you are…?' Morpheus growled cautiously, keeping his gun trained on the glare.

'Smith, Agent Smith.' The voice uttered the name with a sense of derision, 'It… pains me that you don't know who I am, but I know you.'

'You all look the same to me.'

'Well, let's see if this sheds any light on the matter.' The sound of the clacking got closer, stepped slowly towards him, and into the square of grey light. The Agent stood before him; the grey light glinted along the deep green sheen of his suit, his shades purveyed a sinister glare and held his attention, reflected along the hardened expression that was imprinted into his pale skin. 'Recognize me now, Morpheus?'

A smirk grew on Morpheus' face, but he retained his aim, 'I can't say that I don't.' It waned, sinking into a frown, 'Now, where's Trinity?' he growled.

'Straight to business, I see.' The edges of the Agent's lips perked.

'We had a deal, Trinity's life in exchange for mine.'

Agent Smith reached up and slowly removed his shades from the bridge of his nose, revealing an icy blue glare.

'I'm afraid, Morpheus, that the deal no longer stands.' The smile on his lips grew.

His face hardened, 'What do you mean?'

'I gave very specific instructions; should you not arrive at the hotel in three days by 5 o'clock, Trinity would lose her life, should you fail to hand over yours. But, you disobeyed my instructions. Yesterday, a man by the name of Tom Anderson entered the hotel and booked a room, he even… removed the desk clerk for his accomplice to seek information; do you deny it?'

Morpheus' face creased up into a scowl.

'It seems that you don't… you were planning to steal her away from us, therefore bypassing all of the formalities that the deal entailed.' He replaced his shades, the light glinted along the shine of his teeth, visible in the perks of a smile that was starting to develop, and 'I commend your recklessness, but you made your move a day early. The deal is therefore null and void.'

Agent Smith lunged forward grabbed at his wrist and swung him round.

Morpheus released his gun as he hit the ground.

The Agent jumped for him, he kicked out, sent him flying back for the window. He caught himself at the frame. The grey rays were fractured.

As Morpheus got to his feet, Agent Smith jumped forward, landed. Morpheus crouched in defence.

The Agent ran forward, flung punches.

Morpheus parried each, dodged one, and grabbed his wrist, led with his elbow, thrust. A knee connected with his stomach, bent double, barged into Agent Smith. He drove him into the wall, the plaster dented. Dust rose from the walls, he grabbed his shoulders. Head back, butted him, the Agent gritted his teeth.

Agent Smith clutched his face, swung him round into the wall, pulled back his head and smashed it into the wall. He pulled it back, pushed it in, pulled back, pushed in.

Dazed, Morpheus pushed up on his shoulders, kicked out into his stomach and sent the Agent reeling back, his hold relinquished. As he landed, Morpheus fell back into the wall, breathing heavily, clutching his head.

The Agent dashed forward, he forced himself to regain his balance and ducked away from an incoming blow as Agent Smith's fist connected with the wall. He turned his head to face Morpheus, gritting his teeth in disdain and giving a menacing glare. Before he could force his fists from out of the wall, Morpheus punched forward, driving him into a dark corner of the room. He blocked each fist, knocking them aside.

Morpheus threw more blows, jabbed in with his left, but it was caught and held by Agent Smith's right. He tried to force his hand free, but the other was caught. Their fingers were laced, locked in place, each pushed in on each other, forcing the other to another side. He could feel his heels dig into the material of the floor, feel it heap up behind him as he was being pushed back. He dug his heels, tried to force him back for control. Their strength seemed to collide, their fingers came free and both were forced back.

Morpheus' face hardened, he ran forward, Agent Smith was still by the wall he'd landed by, his speed increased. A smirk came up on his face, his hand caught hold of the Agent's head, his feet found their hold on the wall, tracked their way across the corner, from one side to the other. He left the wall, pivoted round, his legs caught around Agent Smith's body and the Agent was forced down, pinned underneath Morpheus, his head by the wall. He gripped the Agent's neck, tightened his grip, and knocked his head against the floor.

Agent Smith grabbed his shoulders, tried to waver Morpheus' grip, managed to roll him onto his back.

He kicked the Agent's legs from between him, rolled him back onto his back. His eyes widened then, realisation, Agent Smith wasn't pinned.

The Agent brought his legs in, kicked out, barrelled into Morpheus' stomach and he was flung across the room.

The wind had been knocked out of him. His back met something soft, he seemed to bounce, but a weight joined him on top, pressing into his hips. Thick coils seemed to wrap around his neck, squeezing, constricting together. He grabbed for the hands, tried to rip them free. He could feel the air leave his body, filter out into the thick grey air, his lungs were burning for what had been lost, but his hold wouldn't give; the bonds held tight, and he glared up at the Agent in defiance. The light from the window glinted onto him

Agent's Smith's shades had fallen from his face amidst the struggle; his eyes were narrow, crazed. His teeth were bared, a vein in his brow throbbed. His head closed in on Morpheus' ear, forcing more of his weight onto the man's throat.

'And now,' Agent Smith hissed through clenched teeth, 'I have the codes. You cannot win.'

A smile grew on Morpheus' lips; he gripped the Agent's hands, stretched them away enough for him to heave in air through audible gasps.

'I already have.' He managed to choke out before he lost his grip. The bonds sprang back onto his neck; the Agent's hands tightened ever more, Morpheus' eyes rolled, he could feel his energy seep away.

Morpheus began to writhe; his lungs continued to burn, the deprivation dragging him down, lower and lower. He gripped the sheets, reminding himself of consciousness; he couldn't let himself give up on air so easily. He thrashed, tried to loosen the Agent's hold, he kicked up into the man's stomach. The grip loosened, the weight rolled away from above him. He rolled onto his side, breathing deeply, hacking and coughing as new air filled his lungs.

A force pulled at his ankle, swung him away from the sheets. His head and back met the wall, he collapsed to the floor, fragmented brick and dust settled down his back. Through blurry vision, the brightness that the grey light offered spilled out onto the form, slowly stepping towards him, growing closer. More of the light was being fractured, blocked from view, giving into the temptation of darkness, as was he; slowly sinking into it, losing himself, seeping in from the surface, lost, completely.

-/\*_;)(-

She'd grown used to the darkness, used to the fact that nothing would materialise in front of her; it would be useless to think that it would. It had been so long since she had seen any resemblance of the light that she had grown used to its cause, to the material that had been wrapped around her face and had seized her sight from her. At least she could take refuge in its solidarity, resting at her back, keeping her upright; she had grown strong in that conviction, that as far as she knew, it would always be a strong and with-standing presence.

It seemed funny though, to think that the darkness could be this simple, as if it always had been there without her notice. That was something else to consider, that nothing was ever simple, never black and white, always grey; it was a lesson she had come to learn, one the Matrix and all it had to offer had done well to drill into her. Just because it could not be seen, did not mean it didn't exist; yes, she had learnt it well, it was, after all, a lesson that didn't exist at the root of its teaching.

Despite the supposed comfort and support, there was always room for uncertainty in the blackest shadows; it blindsided her, left her open to attacks she could not, would not be able to foresee. There was no room for comfort in that, nor could she assume emptiness when that clearly wasn't true. Anyone could be lurking out there in the solid space, slowly waiting, the gears of their minds slowly turning, taking advantage of the obstacles and barriers of protection the darkness could be offering, because their prey wouldn't have a clue.

Those who chose that route of attack, those who dared to catch her unaware, tried to infiltrate from her blind side at all angles; they could not be trusted. They did not deserve to win their prey, take anything that she might hold of value, both outside and in, they would have to take it by force, if they were strong enough, because she wouldn't hand it to them; they'd have to kill her first.

-/\*_;)(-

Roy grasped the door handle with a slow caution. His eyes flickered to Switch's, hers narrowed, and she gave a low nod; his gaze went back to the door. He carefully twisted, opened it. Roy's eyes widened at the sight of the figure that stood before them, drenched from head to toe in deep scarlet blood, causing his clothes to stick at his skin. It dripped from his face, stained his skin in webbed trails where it was beginning to congeal, stilling into thick globules, shiny on the surface, immovable unless disrupted. His hair was near enough the same, dark, almost invisible and yet drying in the wild curls of his hair, sticking them into thick clumps, except for the ends and his hairline where the rest welled at the ends and dripped onto his face and shoulders.

He followed the span of the stains, slowly, and still spreading through the fibres of the man's light blue shirt, webbing round in every direction as if welling, ready to leak, and yet, he hardly seemed phased. He just stood there; hand on hip, the other stroking through the tangled mess of his dark-stained curls, forcing out the blood for the welled droplets to splatter wetly onto the floor behind him, as if he'd showered in it.

Roy's face creased up in disgust, withdrawing from the rank, metallic smell that resonated from the figure and clung at the back of his throat. But the other stood there, only smiling apologetically, as if it was all he could do.

"Sorry," Apoc grinned, "I ran into some trouble downstairs."

'What the- trouble?' Switch glared at him in disbelief, mouth gaping, 'I thought you were-!'

Roy held out his hand to silence her, "Quiet," he grasped for a gun in his holster, and lifted it towards Apoc, "signal," he growled.

Apoc's brows arched, he titled his head, unsure for a while, before his lips curled into a smile, "Oh, right," he gripped a lock of hair just hanging over the hairline, but frowned as the blood dripped from the curl and down his finger and thumb, "damn blood," he growled, and began to roll it in his grip, eyeing it as brown drying crystals rained from it. "Wait, this is it, right?" and he twirled the lock around his finger, where dried clumps splintered from the lock of hair.

Roy shot a glance towards her, Switch returned his hardened gaze, 'That's not the signal,' she growled, shaking her head quickly.

"Sorry Laura," he chuckled softly, placing his hands akimbo, "I must've forgotten it."

She tore the gun from Roy's grip, and held it up, aimed straight for Apoc; he stared at her incredulously, "What are you-?"

'Where is he?' She growled fiercely, her teeth bared.

"What are you talking about, Laura? Where's who?" He laughed, almost giddily.

'I'm not Laura, and you're not Apoc!' She yelled, 'Where is he?' she screamed, her eyes shone with new tears, welling up at her lashes, 'what have you done with Apoc?'

Roy's eyes flashed back to the blood that caked the man's body, widened, narrowed again, "You monster…." he breathed, and he reached for his gun.

'Don't!' She ordered, 'He's mine!'

His hand retracted from his holster and he eyed her warily.

"I'm what?" Apoc laughed, "Seriously, what are you talking about?"

'You FUCKER! I WON'T ASK AGAIN!' She screamed, tears flowed severely down her cheeks; the gun shook in her hand, 'WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH APOC?'

The man continued to stand there, grinning with that tormenting mask, slowly raising his hands above his head, before a laugh bounced freely from his throat, peeling into the air, striking her eyes wide with each spell of mirth that whipped between them.

Switch gulped then as she tried to school her nerves, still she was shaking, 'So,' she growled, the tears still trembled on their way down, 'you don't deny it…?' her eyes narrowed, she gritted her teeth, 'Then-!'

"Could you kill me?"

She gasped, it caught in her throat.

Apoc smirked, "Could you kill me, while wearing this face? Knowing all of the good times you both shared, could you really pull that trigger and kill the man you love?"

Roy watched as the barrel slipped from its aim, as her eyes screwed shut, as her lower lip quivered as more tears welled and escaped. She couldn't hold onto her drive, and what had been left of it began to falter, her body drooped, her arms slipped to their sides, she fell down to her knees and the gun fell to her side with a dull ring. She cupped her face in her hands, her shoulders shook; she couldn't contain the sobs that racked through her.

Roy glared back up at the man, his face hardened at the sight of him, still grinning in his mirth.

He stepped forward then, made a move for her.

Roy's hands tightened into fists, he started forward, "Bastard!" a force connected with his side. He flew into the wall, yelped against it, clutching his side.

"You honestly thought that would work?" Apoc laughed, "Come on! I'm stronger than-!" blood erupted in the shot; he reeled against the open door, his eyes wide in surprise.

Roy lay there with haggard breaths, the gun gripped in both hands, smoke rising from the barrel, "Switch!" he yelled, grabbed a gun from his holster and sent it skittering across the floorboards towards her.

It hit her knee; her gaze flickered to the weapon, stared into its metal sheen.

Apoc rounded on him; glared at him with anger boiling in his eyes, "How dare you-!" he screamed then, a shot connected with his back, he staggered forward with the force.

Roy smirked as Switch rose to her feet, the gun in hand.

'Come on Roy! Are you going to help me or what?' She yelled. Another shot rang out, Apoc screamed as he fell forward, forced back then by a shot to the chest.

"Of course I am!" Roy countered as he gathered himself up.

More shots ruptured the air, cut through, ending their spin in the flesh of the target, screaming, and reeling as the shots from both sides forced him through the open door. He ran towards the other, cursing as his ammo ran out, threw the weapon away, and slid two guns expertly from his shoulder holsters.

The man collapsed against the wall, yelped as more shots sent a series of convulsion through his body. More bullets left their barrels and entered his flesh like celebratory banners, marks of baptismal fire that left their searing blessings through permanent holes. He screamed amidst the agony, but only for a second as another shot cut his anguish short. He slowly slid to his butt, leaving a thick trail of blood where his back had met the wall. He fell onto his side, where blood dribbled from his head wound, staining the whites of his eyes, now glazed with death.

-/\*_;)(-

Noise, she rose her head to it, listened keenly as the lock squeaked free of its jamb, a sound that she could decipher. Dull clicks rose distantly in the air, rose with the darkness as its darkest shadows surrendered themselves to the soft rays of light that pushed through the edges of her blindfold. She squinted to the foreign flare, and all further thought seemed to have been chased away with it.

'TRINITY!' the clicks rushed forward, the boards groaned as the squeak of leather settled before her. Their very existence disturbed the brief peace she had come to know, but in a way she had forgotten. The clamber it took to remove the bonds that wrapped around her lacked that certain grace, shook against her skin as her arms were loosened, the warm breath at her neck tickled unevenly, before receding with her arms' freedom. It left on her skin a single presence, true, pure of all deception and all of its churning and fearful tortures.

The jitters ascended to her hair, despite their anxiety, focused on some accurate tack and with each movement, caught at her hair and left a fleeting sting. But somehow, it seemed worth it that someone should be struggling amidst their excitement to some satisfying end, demanding cooperation towards, working together by letting them take over. The material loosened around her, let the rays gather in, until it dropped from their post and let in the full blast of the intrusion. She clenched her eyes shut to the paralysing brightness, averting herself from it.

'It's alright Trin; it's me, just calm down! I'll get these off you!' A gasp escaped her lips, as if she had been holding her breath, and the biting splinters of the rope were peeled away from her ankles.

The rays of light seemed to dull, lessened their strain on her eyes and as they adjusted she came face-to-face with a figure, her saviour. Their caring hands pressed to her cheeks, spreading their life-giving warmth while their shaking stilled. Her eyes narrowed onto their drained paleness.

'Trin, it's ok, it's me.' The voice seemed to whisper in a quivering rush. It drove his hands from her face, around her back, and her saviour pulled her close. Their warmth surrounded her, a heat she had forgotten about, calming, soothing, bringer of peace; she forgot to breathe.

-/\*_;)(-

Their fingers still twitched on the trigger, only for them to realise that their rounds were empty. Roy sighed then, and dropping his guns to the floor, wiped the sweat that had gathered at his brow. A stabbing ache thrummed then through his side, and he clutched it quickly, grunting.

Switch threw her gun away to the side, watched with weak eyes as it joined the others on the floor. A time of quiet breached the air, everything seemed to settle. A breath of air escaped her lips, her legs shook weakly, she slid from her balance, fell into his side. Roy caught her quickly, settled down onto his knees with her.

"You alright?" He asked quickly, but he glanced at her oddly as a soft smile came up on her lips.

'Yeah, I just, need a minute.' Switch sighed then, stared out towards the body that lay before them, staring at them with reddened, glaring eyes, lifeless.

"Are you sure you'll be alright?" He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, keeping her steady.

'Geez,' she smirked, pushing his arm away, 'stop asking me that, what are you, soft?' But her gaze didn't meet his, he followed it, joined it as she stared out onto the corpse.

"Seeing it there, makes you wonder if we got the right man." Roy's face fell into a scowl.

'No, we definitely got the bastard.' She growled, 'I'm sure of it; you heard him, he asked if I could kill him while wearing that face. That was definitely Envy.'

"Right," he nodded, a smirk turned up on his lips, and slowly, he got up to his feet. He looked down at the woman by his side, still down on her knees, his brows knitted, the smirk fell, "you know, you can stay here if you want." Roy smiled softly.

'Me? Stay here?' Switch chuckled, and she brought herself to her feet. 'You really are soft; I don't know how you made Colonel with that kind of attitude.' She brushed off the residues of dust from her knees, 'heck, I don't know what that kid sees in you.' She smirked, turning to face him.

Roy averted his gaze from hers, before absently kicking a gun off towards a wall. As it rebounded off the skirting board and off under the bed, he turned back with a smirk, "probably the same thing you saw in Apoc." He countered.

'Yeah,' Switch smirked, 'saw.' She let a breath escape, and the smirk slowly bowed away, turning down at the edges.

"Are you sure you're ok with this? Carrying on now?" She turned around from his question and made to grab a holster from the bed post.

Pulling it on, she clicked the strap together, gave a soft sigh, 'I have to be. Apoc, he would tell me not to worry, he'd tell me to carry on without him.' She turned round, smiled, turned back to slip two guns into the holster, she strapped it around a thigh and clicked it in place, 'If Envy knew where we were, then the Agents must know as well,' slid a gun into the holster.

"Then we're going to walk straight into their grasps?" Roy growled, eyes narrowed.

'Well what do you suggest we do, call for back-up? There's no one back at the ship we can call _on_!' She took up another gun, and held it tight.

"That's not necessarily true, after all, there's still someone at the ship who has the ability to jack in," his hand reached for his pocket and he brought out his cell phone, "right now, it looks like we'll need all the help we can get; all it takes is one call."

'Stupid as well as soft,' she spat, 'his orders were very clear! He's not to jack in!' she shook her head furiously.

"I'm well aware of his orders, but if we keep losing more of the crew, then we'd be foolish _not_ to make use of what back-up we _have_!"

'Tch! If you have the energy to argue, then you must be ready to move on!' Switch stepped on for the door, 'There's no time-!' stopped suddenly.

Roy's eyes widened, he stepped back from her, mouth gaping.

The flesh squelched beneath his hold, it held his arm there, hugged around him in a grip of muscle, bone and quickly depleting blood; it flowed from the wound, seeping in large pools through the material of her white dress, escaping anywhere but inwards. It ran down her legs, ran from her mouth, and collected at her feet in growing puddles as the colour of her face drained away, along with her life. Switch clung desperately onto the penetrating arm, stared helplessly into those crazed green eyes, gripping her in place, taking away her will to fight, her ability to live.

'A-Apo-!' he wrenched his hand free of her chest, grinned as she fell to the ground limply, the gun fell from her grip, skipped across the pool before settling in it. Red drops smattered her dress, large ripples coursed through the pool, immortalising the stance of her landing where the blood spread across the floorboards, creeping across towards the toes of his shoes.

Roy backed away from it, his legs met the back of the bed and he fell to his knees; already he could feel it, the blood fusing his knees wetly to his pants.

_If you are killed, you will not return here! If you are killed, you will not get a second chance! If you are killed, you will simply be this…_

"…dead." He uttered.

-/\*_;)(-

He pressed her close, pressed her tight into his embrace; a wave of warmth washed over him, rose in his chest, into his throat, forming a lump there that he found hard to swallow back. His fingers dug into her, assuring her existence, ensuring that she was the purely solid being he always believed her to be, a form of support that he could use, was coming in handy now. But he wasn't the only one who needed it; she did, for all that she'd suffered, for all the torture she'd endured, she needed stability, the comfort of a friendly face and someone she loved. He was glad that he could be the one to provide that for her, and he would carry on doing it, gladly.

His hand ran in one smooth stroke from the small of her back, up past her shoulder, caressed the back of her neck, and sidled up, running through her hair, damp. He pressed her cheek onto his, his lips found her ear with ease, 'it's ok, Trin,' he breathed warmly. 'We're going to get you ou-!'

He clutched his stomach suddenly from the force, crumpled down into a heap at her knees, breathing haggard breaths as he coiled up tight.

Another force threw him back. He skidded across the floor. His back hit the wall behind him, knocked the breath from him, he grunted against it. He tried to push himself up for support, and through weary eyes, found himself staring into hers, dark, severe.

'Trin…?' his eyes widened as he watched her reel a little onto the wall behind, using it to retain her balance. His gaze was fixed onto hers, she stared down into him with narrow eyes, and he gaped in disbelief, 'what are you…?'

'You… bastard,' her voice croaked dryly, dismembered in its fit of long silence before, 'why are you here?'

'What do you-? I'm trying to save you, Trin!' his narrow eyes scanned her rapidly for any sense of the Trinity he knew, but even the cordial light of the room couldn't pick it up; lost in her blur.

'Liar,' she spat coldly, 'if you truly meant that, then you would've tried harder.' Her eyes purveyed the accusation with unwavering strength, 'right now, you're only acting on orders, aren't you?'

He gaped at her, his gaze wandered from hers, darting across the floor for an answer.

'You're not going to deny it?' she uttered severely.

His gaze snapped back to hers, 'I-I'm not just doing this on orders!' he started, pushing himself onto his knees, 'I'm doing this for you!'

'I don't believe you.' She frowned deeply.

'But…!' his energy seemed to fail him, '… I love you.'

'Then prove it!' she growled, and with slow halting movements, he pushed herself off the wall, stepped in the roll of a limp, and lowered herself with bent knees, fists poised, 'fight me at full strength!' she demanded.

He stared into her helplessly, a breath escaped his lips, 'I can't,' he shook his head finally; 'I don't want to hurt you.'

She bared her teeth, 'Then I'm obviously not worth your time,' she seethed, 'you wouldn't fight for me before, you wanted me gone. So,' she clenched her fists, turning the knuckles bone white, 'if you _really _want me back then prove I'm worth the trouble! Prove there's no one else on your mind!' her face was turning red; her breathing heaved as the frustration welled in her chest.

He gritted his teeth, tried to show some form of resolve, but as he glared into her, they lost all the fierce determination he would once refuse to let go of; that face wasn't meant to be used against her. It lost all fight, his brows knitted and every part of him seemed to lose the firmness of the fight. His resolve was already crumbling.

'Get on your feet and fight me!' her whole body seemed to shake, something else welled from her, tore her throat raw.

His eyes widened, his face lowered from hers, he gulped as he shook, 'no, I can't.' He breathed through haggard wobbles, 'I… I-I just can't.'

She gaped at him. The light reflected a shining dampness in her eyes, scanned him up and down. Her face drew up into a rapid flicker of disgust, 'you COWARD!' she screamed, ran forward.

-/\*_;)(-

The man…. Roy's mind seemed to reel; his body went boneless beneath the glare, the manic smirk that enveloped its lips, the poison green stare that bore into him, holding him there as if he were pinned in place; no way to escape it, nothing he could do, those eyes… threatening, they promised something hidden beneath them, he could only guess, but he couldn't… in case he was right.

He screwed his eyes shut, almost blinded as crimson flashed bowed out from the man's feet, curling up its body; its clothes seemed to fizz from all view, taking away the black suit trouser, bleaching tanned skin with its crimson volts. Its body seemed to arch with the wave, the blue shirt seemed to shrink, sticking at its skin before the bowed flash ate away the material, right up to its solar plexus before eating up the sleeves beside it; all that was left was transfigured a deep black. It worked up its neck, fusing the collar there, coating it black in the waves of an ephemeral red band. Its skin paled the further it travelled, eating away blood as its eyes screwed up and grinned in pleasured revelry; the wave sank into its hairline, yanking the black curls straight as it settled around its brow, leaving a black band as long, deep green strands settled passed his shoulders.

The man's chest heaved suddenly; its mouth gaped for breath and its knees seemed to shake before him, tones of mirth bounced from its throat.

Roy stared; wide eyes glared up into that face as its tension seemed to sink, leaving a glazed expression, a deep grin.

_What is…?_

Roy's eyes darted down to the man's legs, now regaining the balance it had struggled to keep just moments ago; there, in the side of its left thigh, inscribed in the skin as if some of the flash and blood had settled in its flesh.

He tried to curl himself away; the sketch had proved its worth, no longer just a fictitious creation from some damned imagination. He knew what it was; his eyes were drawn to its face, to their look of relaxation as finally their eyes were pulled open, revealing deep violet orbs behind half-mast lids. He bared his teeth as the man smirked down at him proper, his face settled into a deep scowl.

"So," Roy growled deeply, his fists shaking, "you're Envy, the one who can change his appearance at will."

It chuckled, bouncing in a low feminine voice, "ah, so you've heard of me!" bowing briefly before righting itself. "I'm flattered!"

"I wish I hadn't," his face creased up in revulsion, "you're disgusting," he seethed.

Roy pitched forward. He hadn't expected the kick, the foot as it curled round the back of his neck. No time to stop himself, he met the floor, rolled with the force, settled on his gut. He pulled his hands to his side, tried to push himself up on them.

Suddenly, a hand slapped down against his head, pressing his face into the pool.

"I'd take that back if I were you." It grinned, its fingers pressed into Roy's head, threatened to gouge into his skull.

"Why should I?" Roy growled through clenched teeth. His head was pressed with harder force, ground into the wood, its hand bearing down on him. He screwed up in pain, he gritted his teeth against it, writhing under the force, struggling.

"Well, you don't want to end up like her, do you?"

He stared out with wide eyes at the face in front of him; his mouth gaped as little waves of blood lapped up onto the shore of his tongue, and all struggling ceased.

She bore into him with green, empty orbs, absent of their warmth, drained of their life-light, and yet their curses still remained, encased in ash pale skin.

Roy gulped hard. A whimper squeaked free from his throat.

_Sorry Stranger… Guess I wasn't strong enough after all… but that's alright… your secret's safe with me… I'm just trash to you anyway… aren't I?_

Roy's eyes widened against the power of her stare.

_You fight against the system that controls you, but in the end… it's all a worthless struggle._

Roy's mind seemed to flail, his hands tightened into fists, as if trying to secure whatever sense of control he was losing and trying in vain to regain.

_Especially in this business, you never know when something or someone will come along and take it from you. It could all be gone… so quickly…_

"Poor, worthless human, wasn't she?" its voice lingered at the surface, calling to whatever remained of the man beneath its hold, never faltering in its convictions, inescapable.

_Even soldiers must fall some time…_

"She was a _cruel _one, I'll give her that," it chuckled, "but in the end, it wasn't enough; you see, as long as you hold onto your useless sense of sentimentality, you'll never be able to detach yourselves in order to fulfil your potential."

_You don't know the true extent of what you're up against…_

"You think there's strength in numbers, you think you humans can overcome any obstacle with what little help you can find, but it's only a ruse; a mantra to cover up the fact that you can't do it alone," the strength of his hold increased, pain flared in Roy's head, but those eyes continued to stare back, as if he didn't matter; the pain didn't matter, "because on your own, you are nothing but sad, miserable creatures, only able to clutch at straws, wallow in what little life you have, and that is why, you'll always be weak."

_But now's the time for you to give up, and die…_

Roy screwed his eyes shut, welcoming the folds of the darkness that enveloped him, as if he were coming back home again, ready to settle into it, never to step out again. He drew in more breath, heaving it out with a shaky effort, under the burden, under the weight. It was his fault she was… somehow, he couldn't save her, it was… a crime he'd committed, the consequences were clear. He'd be alone, completely alone, left to his guilt. He could do nothing now but hide behind his hands, blood-stained…. Her blood… and his… and theirs'… why…?

_People are going to die, so there's no use aching over all of them._

A voice peeped up beside him, young and near the point of breaking, sat close, pressing warmth in at his side. It rested then on his shoulder, rubbing up and down in soothing motions.

_Just be glad you're alive… that's all you have time to do._

Roy's eyes shot open, the green stare flashed back into view, framed by sallow skin, dappled in blue clouds, the result of an oxygen deprived existence, or what could laughably be called that.

_He would tell me not to worry, he'd tell me to carry on without him._

"That's right," the low feminine voice seemed to curl around him, as if smirking in sick satisfaction, "take a good look at that face. It's human weakness at its peak, the result of all feeble struggling, doesn't it drive you mad? Of course, this isn't the first time you've seen pieces of filth like this, is it?"

_Good men have been led to physical and metal self-destruction because their loved ones have been killed by the machines…_

Roy's fists shook against his hold. He felt something cool against one; he unclenched and settled onto it.

_But you are heading down this path over people you don't even know…_

"You remember Ishbal, right? Damn! What a centrepiece! All the flailing, fighting and screaming, and they don't even know why! Just remembering it sends chills down my spine! Shooting people left and right, shedding blood for all to see! And do you know the best part?" a cackle rang clear from his throat; he could feel the pressure give, "it wasn't because they _hated_ each other, not for some religious reason, no! It was all because they were following orders!"

Roy gripped it tight, peering out of the corner of his eyes, gritting his teeth.

_It's not too late._

"The puppet master gave the commands, and the soldiers followed them on their strings! Only such chaos and destruction can be carried out by foolish humans with senses as clouded as theirs! Only humans would be dumb enough to play along! That is why you're-!"

_You've got a good pair of legs, so get up and use them!_

"God! Do you every shut up?" Roy curled round under his grip, forcing his arm and gun towards it. He made to shoot, but the gun was slapped away, and in the same movement, beaten across the face. In that flash of pain, Roy was hauled up by his front and held easily off the ground.

"Now why'd you go and do a thing like that?" Roy was yanked up to his face, frighteningly close, grin wide, "hm?"

Roy held his frown, heavy in his defiance.

"Well?" it shook him hard, "Don't keep me in suspense!"

"We are _not _foolish!" Roy ground out.

"Of course you are!" It chirped, "You came here on command, didn't you?" A chuckle bounced from its throat, "and all for nothing."

"What do you me-?" Roy growled.

There was a sudden jab to his neck, a fleeting moment of breathlessness, but that was all it took for the darkness to tunnel in, and for everything to fall down around him.

-/\*_;)(-

The wind whipped wildly around him, spraying sharp needles of drizzle, cold and bitter against Victor's face, making him shudder as he kicked off harder before setting his balance back on the board. As the wheels hits the puddles, the water parted in small waves, making his path, leaving rippling trails as he sped off down the street, dodging pedestrians and stones that could easily knock him off course.

All around him, everyone as he whizzed past was a dull blur of mixed colour, far from clarity; far from focused lines and defining features as he shifted his attention to them from the road ahead. Everyone, a minor entity that walked against him, existing in some insignificant way that hardly mattered in the greater scale of things. They didn't steal his brother; they wouldn't know where to look, and of course, they wouldn't care. Best avoided; best to dodge them while his balance was still sustainable.

But it wasn't for long; the wind blew hard against him, slowing down his pace; he kicked off with a few strengthened hits before his balance settled once again. The wind carried on its assault, howling, carrying the wet needles that stung his eyes, ruptured the black that framed them, causes them to run in thin trails down his face; he gritted his teeth against the whirling cold.

_Victor, of course I care, he wasn't just your brother, he was my son, but these things happen… that's just how the world works. First you're here and then you're not._

Victor narrowed his eyes, grunted as another gust of wind whistled and howled against his ears, barrelled into him, sent the board swerving and him almost off it. But still he wobbled in his stance, the wheels veered left and right, but as the wind calmed, he managed to right himself again before giving the ground an extra swipe of his foot.

_No, I won't let myself believe that for a second, Joe. Something happened to you, for some reason, you were killed, but right now… I can't be sure… but there must be a reason! You can't have just dropped dead like that! I refuse to believe that you just dropped dead of your own accord! There has to be a reason, a cause…._

The clouds flashed above, a fork of lightning split the sky, glistening across the faces of those who still ran against it, doing their best to escape the rain and drear, a crack of thunder thrummed across the sky from behind the clouds, the great booming noise, it gripped him, his eyes widened to it as he swerved quickly out of someone's way.

_This can't just be a coincidence! Something's going on! And God help me I'm going to figure it out!_

His cheeks reddened, but not because of some newly apparent heat. The warmth branched out from beneath them, coursed through his skin and beat away the external cold.

_But at least I won't be alone in this. With your help, Sarah, I know I can do it!_

His face drew in fiercely, branded now with a new determination.

_Joe, I promise you I'll find out who-!_

The sirens brought him back to reality, cutting through as the police cars rushed past. They made him jump, a cold sweat gathered at the back of his neck. He could feel himself wobble off balance, there was a sudden drop, he'd left the pavement, found himself coursing through the street, something screeched, coming closer, slipped past him on the wet.

His board rammed into the side of the car's tire, his feet left the board, a sudden feeling of weightlessness. He rolled across the bonnet; his shoulder hit the metal, his head hit the glass, shattered beneath him. The force of the car breaking carried him with it, traversing, winded, he couldn't stop himself. The car shuddered suddenly, the bonnet bowed then bucked him off and his body hit the concrete, rolled across someway before halting on his side.

The rain pattered against him, coming down heavily, barraging his skin like blunt bullets. There was hardly any air left in him to breathe, he had to and drew it in. But the only thing that left him were shaken screams, shock, panic, eyes screwed shut. With each breath came more fragile moans, biting aches.

_Get out of the road, should roll away now… right…? Or get hit…_

He tried to force his body into action, forced his muscles to cooperate, but something obstructed him, caught him in place.

Voices around him, footsteps maybe, the roar of car horns, distant, hazed in darkness. He tried then to open his eyes, found a close-knit line of shoes somewhere close by, maybe a few car wheels… is that broken wood…?

'Hey… you alright kid?'

'You idiot! I have kids in the backseat!'

'Don't try to move, you're bleeding!'

'Don't worry, there's help on the way.'

His fingers gripped the concrete for stability, a nauseous feeling settled in the pit of his stomach, a sharp pain now, he grunted to it. A stroking sensation, he could feel it running up and down his arm, giving reassurance.

'It's going to be alright kid. Just hang on.'

The haze purveyed his sight still, hovering above his line of sight, as if threatening to rain down. The hands gripped harder, shaking him, voices around him, loud, slowly fading from earshot.

'Hey, keep your eyes open! Are you with us…?' The sickness, raising steadily to his throat, he could feel his grip loosen on everything; it weighed on him until all darkness prevailed as his ears filled with a low, long tone.

'Hey! Snap out of it!' he jolted suddenly, he found himself gripped the table side, his knees shaking weakly, 'are you ok, Ed?'

He forced air into his lungs as a bead of sweat sidled down his brow; he blinked hard, hoping to rid himself of the hazy clouds of black that still surrounded his sight, now slipping away to let in the light of the monitor. His gaze drifted above the screen, the bodies lay limp, two screens by the side of their seats flashed red and his eyes widened to it. His mouth gaped open at the reality it provided, that the meaning behind it was dire; red, blood, danger….

"No…" he uttered softly.

'What do you…?' Tank followed Edward's gaze to the seats, before letting a frown purvey his face, he averted his eyes from it, let them settle again on the monitor.

Edward gripped the table side harder, almost jolted forward as Dozer gripped hold of a jack, and with a strong tug, yanked it out from Apoc's plug. The body buckled, slipped lower in the seat despite the straps that still held the man's wrists and feet down, as if the torso had an independent sentient existence to the rest of its body; the red flashing ceased on his screen, one line of a low beep retracted itself from the monotonous tone of the other. But the only sense of sentience, of movement left in the body were the constant drips of blood that rained on the floor beneath, drying and clumping somewhat on the fur-lined material of the seat-covers, completely drenched now.

"Apoc…." He averted his gaze quickly then from the releasing click of the corpse from the stability of its jack, but at least sentience was not an option for the corpse to consider, should it ever have the choice. He turned round to face Tank, his face set hard against the glare of the monitor and it's raining, acid green code. "… And now Switch…? They're both…."

'That doesn't matter anymore,' Tank interjected, 'they're both-.'

"Y-You don't care…?" Edward's face twisted with an edge of disgust, his brows tugged in, his teeth bared against the man's disrespect for the dead, "you don't care… th-that they've been killed…?"

Tank frowned deeply, 'there's no use crying over it now. What's done is done, they played their parts, but it obviously wasn't enough.'

"So what about everything they _have _done, huh? Does that mean nothing too?"

'I'm not saying that!' Tank growled, 'we couldn't have gotten this far without them, but they're no use to us dead! We have more important things to worry about!'

"So… you're just going to disregard them…? Just like that?" his face screwed up, he gritted his teeth, "you sick-! How can you say that? You've known them _longer _than I have! They were your _friends_!"

'Will you wake up?' Tank stood up from his seat, his hands pulled into his fists, and 'you should know by now that counts for nothing in the Real World! People die fighting the machines! It was the same with Cypher! Just because he died, doesn't mean we should stop; the same goes for Apoc and Switch! You should know this by now!'

"But this isn't the same as Cypher! _They _didn't try to betray us!" Edward tightened his hands into fists, his whole body shook, "They didn't hinder our plans… they worked with us… helped us towards our goals… despite the risks… and they died for our cause!" he seethed through gritted teeth, "how can you compare _that_ to _Cypher_?" he pulled his arm back, _"THEY WERE YOUR FRIENDS DAMMIT!" _he rushed towards him, threw his fist forward. He was stopped mid-momentum, and his prosthetic was grasped back by a blood-soaked hand. He turned slightly; from the corner of his eye he caught the sight of Dozer. The light caught his face, hardened, ready to protect.

'I know you're mad right now, little man. But no matter what tongue you rant in, that ain't gonna do you no good.' Dozer growled deeply, 'Apoc and Switch will always be remembered for what they've done, but if they could see us now, I bet they wouldn't wanna see us brawlin' over them. The mission comes first, above all else. It's time you learned that, Edward.'

"Y-You too…?" his knees buckled beneath him, his arm slipped from Dozer's grip and he dropped to the floor. His head hung low, his shoulders loose, his body quivered beneath the weight, "your… they were… your friends… why…?"

'Just let it go, Ed.' Tank growled, 'there's nothing you can do for them now. At least now, they're at peace.'

Edward narrowed his eyes; his fists shook as they dug into the material of his trousers, but not before thoughts of a man with short black hair were called to the forefront of his mind, when the trauma of a sudden loss was not far behind them.

_When you're in the Real World, it's something you have to get used to. People die every day fighting against the machines, but it doesn't mean that everyone should stop. We just have to cut our losses and move on; otherwise we'll never win against them._

He gasped, his eyes widened and he swallowed down the lump that was growing in his throat, loosened the grip on his trousers.

"Y-You're right," he nodded quickly, "they're together now, at least. They'll be no need for them to suffer anymore." He tried to work a smile onto his face, small at least, but it came out in strained wobbles, only perked at the edges.

'That's the best way to think about it.' Dozer smiled softly, and reaching down, squeezed his shoulder.

Carefully, with a hand on his arm, Dozer helped him to his feet, before letting him steady himself on the table, "what about the others? They should've gotten to Trinity by now, right?"

'Well,' Tank sighed, 'Neo's there with her, but… they're fighting each other.'

"What? That can't be right! I thought they-!" Edward cursed inwardly, swallowing down the profanity, "what about Roy and Morpheus?"

'Morpheus has been captured by Agent Smith,' Tank's voice hardened into a deep growl, 'and Roy by Envy. At this rate, the deal won't matter, because they'll have both Morpheus _and _Trinity. Unless something was to change in the situation, at this point, there's nothing we can do.' He averted his gaze from the screen.

"But we have Mouse, don't we? We can just call him; tell him what's going on! He'll be able to go up and-!"

'No!' Tank interjected, 'Mouse may have managed to stay under their radar, but if he left the Bluepills, they'll run amok and then the Agents will be able to use them for transport. Then we'll be in some _really_ deep shit.'

Edward's gaze fell to the floor, his hands tightened into fists, "There has to be some way we can help them."

'There isn't. Not without disobeying Morpheus' orders anyway.' Tank snarled.

His eyes widened, as the feeling of realisation overtook him, a smile settled on his lips.

"You're right," Edward nodded, "the mission _does _come first. That's why," he lifted his head to face Tank. "I want you to send me into the Matrix."

Tank stared at him in disbelief, 'are you kidding?' his face creased with rage, 'Morpheus gave very specific orders for you not to be plugged into the Matrix! There may be nothing we can do, but as long as you're still here, we've got nothing to worry about! You know that right?'

"Yes, I do know!" Edward snarled, "But if I don't do something, then Apoc and Switch won't be the _only _ones to die tonight! With me there, I'll be able to free both Morpheus and Roy, and get the rest out of there as well! You know I can do it!"

'I don't care! The last time you disobeyed Morpheus' orders we were almost killed by Sentinels!' he shook his head furiously, 'No! There's no way I'm letting you twist my arm again!'

"But they'll never escape if I don't do something!" Edward countered, "Listen to yourself! How can you be willing to let them die in there, when you know you have me to send in? I can turn this around! I can make it work in our favour! All you have to do is let me _try_!"

Tank averted his gaze, '… an order is an order, Edward. There're just too many risks. If you go in there, then there's a very good chance that we'll lose you too. As this ship's operator, as long as Morpheus is my Captain, I can't let that happen.' He glared into him fiercely.

"Tank, you've got to hear me out! Neo isn't the only one on this ship, I'm here as well! I know I didn't ask for this duty, but I'm damn sure not going to give up on it now! The Oracle told me herself that her duty is to Neo, the reason I'm here is to act as Neo's guide on his path, I must help in any way I can!"

'Staying out here _is _helping him!' Tank ground out.

"For fu- you don't understand!" Edward screamed.

'No! _You're _the one who doesn't understand!' Tank interjected, 'You know _damn _well why Morpheus gave the order, and I for one am not going to let you disobey it for one life and at the expense of millions of others!' Tank stepped towards him, imposing on him with his greater height, 'You may think Morpheus is worth more that the lives of Zion, but as far as your Equivalent Exchange is concerned, Morpheus' life is not worth the risk! Just give it up, Edward; it's pointless to even try.'

"How can it be pointless? Without him, we'll fail from now on! He's too important to leave behind!" He heaved, then screamed, "Dammit Tank! If I don't help him now, then ZION _WILL _FALL!" he took in quick breaths, staring into him, as if that was all he could do.

Tank glared at him, his eyes wide.

"Please Tank," he breathed, "I'm begging you… right now, I'm their last hope, I can help them; the only thing that's stopping me… is you." He let a wavering breath escape, "I can't do this on my own, Tank, I need your skills as an operator. We can still win this… so please… just have some faith in me."

Tank settled down, letting himself sink back down into his seat, giving a harsh sigh, 'What do you think, Dozer?'

Dozer looked up from his stance, gazed down then at Edward, 'I'm sorry,' his gaze went then to Tank, 'I'm afraid I'm gonna have to go with Ed on this one.'

Tank stared at him incredulously, 'What? Are you serious?'

'Get yourself seated, little man.' Dozer smiled at Edward, who nodded quickly, a determined grin on his face.

"Right, thanks!" and he rushed off for an empty seat.

'Brother!' Tank grated out, 'Why are you doing this? You do realize that-!'

'Yeah, I do, but the little man's right. We've gotta have faith. I mean after all, there's gonna come a time when that's all we _can _do.' His little brother's face creased into dismay, but a smirk perked on Dozer's lips, 'I know he twisted your arm last time, but this ain't no time for pride. This here's a matter of life an' death.' He placed a hand on Tank's shoulder, and the little brother faced him then, 'The mission comes first, right?' Dozer chuckled.

Tank glared from Dozer; let his vision sidle towards Edward, who had already strapped his feet to the seat, and then back to his older brother.

'Fine,' Tank growled through gritted teeth, 'but if something happens to them, I will not be the one held responsible.'

'Don't worry about it,' Dozer smirked as he stepped for Edward's seat, 'I'll take the bullet for ya this time, bro.' He quickly strapped down Edward's wrists, pressed his head down into the head rest and took up a jack at the side, 'Whatever ya do Ed, jus' be careful.'

"Don't worry about me, Dozer." Edward chuckled softly, "I'll get them out of there." He nodded firmly. With one hand across his forehead, the head of the jack found its way through dull golden strands and towards the rim of the plug, skating round the edges. Sliding the head of it in, he thrust the jack in firmly. He jerked up against his hand, before relaxing finally against the headrest.

'Are you sure we made the right choice?' Tank sighed finally.

'No, but for the sake of the others, we got no other choice to make.' Dozer returned firmly as he took up a seat beside Tank, 'I believe in Ed an' Neo, I believe that Morpheus is right about those two, but,' his face fell slightly, his gaze settled onto Edward's calm face, the rapid flickering beneath his closed lids, 'if Edward can't pull this off, then there's no doubt about it.' He glared round into Tank's dark gaze, 'Zion _will _fall.'

-/\*_;)(-

Feeling, a twitch of movement, then more, fingers, aren't they? Then more, he curled them in, the pads at the tips touched the roots of their existence, pressed in harder… the first thing he'd grown conscious of doing since… he wasn't sure, something in his mind must've fractured along the way from… wherever he came from, a gap had been left in his memory, something that was hard to retrieve, had gone missing. Somehow, it seemed even harder to replace, at least not with anything worth remembering. Nothing worth remembering now, not now that he was here, surrounded by this deathly black canvas, open to all manners of penetration, but closed to any perception of sight. All he could feel was the eerie ground beneath him…

_… It's not a question of how people perceive you, but of how you perceive the world…_

His eyes widened to that sound, a sound that grated in all the wrong ways and left nothing that could warrant the desire to hear it again, just a sting akin to an open wound and the adage of sodium chloride. Nothing left to do now but move, and with that reasoning he tried to summon any strength he might have, at least enough to push himself up onto his knees, but his whole body felt heavy, as if the darkness were bearing all its weight on him, mercilessly punishing him for something he wasn't sure he'd done, a nameless crime he didn't know he'd committed.

_Sure you can touch; it's the only sense that can provide you with any solid proof of what you see…_

He glared about him for the source of the sound, but he could see nothing beyond his hands, pressed in effort against the floor, his fingers gripping at the sound and marking his knuckles with a bone-white strain.

_But the evidence of what it could be just from touch is not nearly convincing enough._

He narrowed his eyes from the infernal grate and let his features settle into the frown it was accustomed to, he gritted his teeth against the sound that reverberated around him.

_"Damn… this again?"_

As soon as he'd spoken, there was a sudden tug on his wrists, sending his arms up, yanking him up into the air; his mouth gaped breathlessly as he lost all sense of gravity to the force that was taking all control of him. He was flying upwards, faster, faster, as his gut would find its way into his throat. Somehow, he couldn't help but smirk at the idea, a miracle in the making. Still he flew, panic sent a hot shiver down his back, a widened glare towards his supposed destination; still more darkness, he couldn't see an end, perceive a ceiling, inwardly, he hoped there wouldn't be.

He halted suddenly; all momentum was countered by a new force on his ankles, causing his body to jolt down, buck up again in a sickening pang of unwarranted bounce. The slack seemed to tighten then, and his journey had lost all of its previous buoyancy, pulling his arms and legs outwards; unguarded, open to everything on all sides. The coils around his limbs tightened still, tighter, tighter, as if ready to pull him apart, he ground his teeth against it.

The pull seemed to settle, his breathing heaved with effort, and he could feel the coils cut into his skin, stinging madly at his splitting flesh.

_Well, this is an improvement, you've never looked better!_

Before him, the darkness broke apart, splitting like his flesh, letting light gather and seep from the new slit at it grew in length. It seemed to bunch then with some internal effort, the illuminated line screwing up against the darkness as though it were a waking man being exposed to new light, greeting consciousness with a tinge of annoyance. It spread, opened suddenly. He couldn't help but glare into it, and the large eyes that revealed itself, for its part, was staring back from its oddly positioned side; its iris throbbed with rings of grey that enveloped the ink black pupil as it dilated at the sight of him.

The thin of its surface seemed to gleam wetly, tears that collected at the corner that pointed down like an arrow, reverberating as something seemed to push against the white film from within. It seemed to pulse then, the attacks seemed to grow more violent from within as the pupil narrowed and rolled fiercely from the internal abuse.

He couldn't help but stare weakly, helplessly into it. All he could do was tighten his fists, struggle against his bonds, against the coils that held fast, held him in place.

It ruptured suddenly in a slippery rush, white lumps mixed with blood dripped from the new synapse, pouring from the corner and dropping down into an unbroken free-fall, further into the plane of darkness below where no bottom could be distinguished. But still he never turned away from the glare of the eyes; blood rushed and stained the whites, bled from the synapse in collective tears with the rest of the congealing lumps.

A hand grasped the side.

His mouth hung open, sweat trailed down his brow, a familiar ache twisted in his gut.

Another hand breached the gap, tightened their grip on the sides, pushed against it; there was a sickening crunch as the eye's shell was broken completely in half, peeled right back to its black lids, relinquishing now a new beacon of light that flooded into the darkness, that could break down easily what its rays could touch. He squinted to it, his whole body wanted to shrink away from the new warmth, but it didn't last long.

He dared to open his eyes again as the warmth shrank away, a dark shadow had settled on his skin and he turned his back to gaze into the eye. Something was there, definitely there, obstructing the rays, casting them away, a form that he could only guess was humanoid in shape.

That was until the form stepped closer, leaning over from inside the shell, face pressing deathly close to his own; then, a smile, harsh, familiar, supplied by the gleam that shone from golden eyes, reflecting the light behind. His face creased into a scowl. The form reached out, the tips of its fingers skated across his cheek, he gritted his teeth as they bit into his skin like prickles of ice.

_So, this is what you've been reduced to, hm?_

The golden orbs softened momentarily, skating from head, slowly down to foot, surveying his naked body, as if with sympathy, or pity, as if it _cared _for his well-being.

_Soft, weak…_

It simpered in forlorn tones, but he couldn't help but catch the same sting at the end of them, of sodium chloride, diluting any and all meaning into something crude and worthless; the very thought made him shudder, more so as the form brought more of its fingers into play, sliding back up the cheek until he was being cupped wholly in its hand.

_You poor thing, you have been blind for so long, and even now that your eyes have been opened, you still insist on hanging onto your pathetic illusion, to the darkness that your eyes have become so accustomed to…._

It definitely stung then, like the words of a mother admonishing her child; worth listening to, but damn was it hated then.

_You certainly insist on doing everything the hard way, making mistakes, refusing to learn, and then making them again, just to see what colour your bruises will turn this time, when sight for you is nothing but a distant fantasy. You, like all fakes, will never learn._

He flinched from the touch, shaking away the hand from his cheek, as if its palm were searing his skin. He stared into it fiercely.

_"That's where you're wrong," _he hissed, _"Yes, there was a time when I would refuse to learn," _he screwed his eyes shut against the fact, tinged with humiliation, _"when I could only find happiness and satisfaction in the life I'd left behind, and yes," _his face fell into a sort of sullen admittance, _"maybe I was a fake," _then, a smirk began to envelop his lips; a realisation being brought into his own understanding. _"I'm ashamed to say that it took the words of a child for me to realise the consequences of that," _the smirk suddenly, _"but that no longer matters. My eyes have been opened, and my mind is free. Just as a man can bend the laws once he has mastered them, I myself can bend anything to my will here; this is my environment, it's mine to manipulate."_

The form's face drew into one of disgust, its anger coming through in gritted teeth and a throbbing vein on the side of its temple; his smile widened.

_"You see, you may think you're the one in control, but you were never were-." _His face was beaten aside, red now where the fist had made its contact. He had to shut his eyes to it, but opened them again as he glanced up to face it proper, blood trickling down the corner of his mouth. _"… Was that supposed to hurt…?" _He growled, spat the blood aside, _"That was pathetic, even for you." _He smirked.

Another fist barrelled into him, and again from the other side, knocking him this way and that in a cacophony of beatings until his face was covered in sprays of blood.

_I don't think you realise who you're speaking to!_

The form screamed, its ire taking over.

_"Oh I know exactly who I'm speaking to!" _he retorted, _"But how am I supposed to take you seriously when you punch like a little girl?" _he grinned in the face of the strength it possessed as he felt a cushion of warmth hug against his face, soothing the momentary pain, as if it had only existed as a minor irritant.

The form's fist shook.

_You bastard!_

It drew its arm back.

_You liar!_

He grunted against the blow to his gut as it forced its way through, as the blood leaked around the wound and the guts that remained hugged around the foreign limb, treating it like the enemy it was, treating it with the entrapment it deserved. He stared down at the arm, his eyes widened, screwed up as he coughed blood onto his assaulter. His breathing heaved for stability, but his gaze found the golden orbs easily.

_"You don't understand, do you?" _he yelled.

He tensed his muscles, further entrapment. He brought his head back, smashed it into the form's, who yelped against the force. It gripped the shell edge for stability, but with all its strength, it couldn't pull itself free.

_"I told you before! This is MY mind, and here, you are at MY mercy!" _he screamed. _"Anything you do will count against you because I'M the one calling the shots here!"_

Gritting its teeth, it gripped the shell tighter, pulled harder, and yelped with effort as it yanked its arm free. He threw his head back, screamed as the blood found its escape. He huffed for breath, letting groans fall on the exhalations, shaking as his body began to yield less and less, as the flow began to die away.

_"But you," _he growled deeply, _"who dares to wear his face… YOU'RE THE ONE WHO'S FAKE!" _He glowered into him, the form stared back as if to shrink back into the core of the shell; he couldn't let himself be afraid of that face any longer, _"Always have been; always will be!"_

The form blinked, then, a smirk cracked on his lips, a peel of laughter escaped its throat, echoed around the darkness, filling the cold space around them and leaving him to stare in disbelief.

_You really think so?_

The laughter had died on its tongue, but the mirth had failed to escape completely, still attached to its lips; his courage was beginning to flag, his eyes widened in a way that spelled fear according to the perception of all possible spectators. He felt a sudden tug on his body, as if being pulled in towards the cavern of light, shining from within the shell; he tried to grasp at the coils, hoping for dear life that they wouldn't dare relinquish their hold on him; to escape the pull, but to never fall victim to the drop beneath.

The form pulled it arms out wide.

_No matter the deception, no matter how much you try to fight it, you can never escape the Truth! That day of Truth, when all you're fighting will become futile, that day will come soon…. _

He could feel it, the coils receding from across his skin, their pull beginning to slacken smoothly; he gripped at the coils, he struggled against the pull, growing stronger. It was clear, if he were to let go, he wouldn't fall, it wouldn't let him; he'd be at its mercy, free-reeling within the gravity of the darkness. He gripped desperately, tighter at the coils.

One arm flagged in its strength and flapped to his side, a victim of the force working against him, but he couldn't let go, not while he still had a hold on a coil, even though his body was spinning within the force. His legs writhed then for stability; his free hand grabbed hold of the coil still in his other grip, tried to wrap it around his hand. But he could feel the coil slowly slip from his fingers, his grip beginning to falter, the pull growing.

His body grew suddenly heavy, he gasped and a weight had joined him on his back, clambering on, pulling up against his own naked flesh. A certain heat began to settle at the back of his neck, warm breath skated along it, moved up before pressing against his cheek. His own body began to shake, he could feel his grip losing all of its strength, and he could lose it any second.

_… Why do you keep on fighting? The Truth is absolute, there is nothing you can do, but lie down and accept it. If you do, then things will be easier, but I suppose you won't do that, will you?_

_ "No," _he seethed, _"I could never let myself give up now. Not now…" _he lost sight of the coil in hands, his gaze began to waver.

_As always, you'll do everything the hard way._

It gripped his hands, he glared at the glowing skin, and he gaped at it. His brows knitted, his lower lip quivered, and a lump gathered in his throat. Despite the owner, the hand, each finger that tightened around his, emitted reassurance, a spiel of soft caresses, strength in weakness, a non-verbal pact, but one he knew well. He'd known it before, he gritted his teeth, and his eyes screwed shut, hated that the form was _his_, and he had to let go, sailed towards the light, and breach the shell.

Warm breath lingered at his ear.

_It's useless to keep fighting, Roy; it's foolish to think you can. You'll come to realise that, and when you do, they'll be nothing left for you to do but accept your fate; only then will you be able to accept the Truth._

The heat grew around him, bathing his body in its glow, the forms arm wrapped around him. Together, they sank deeper into the light where the heat rose in intensity, burning at his skin, but he was unable to thrash and writhe himself away from the flames; the force was too strong to defy. They kept on sinking in, further towards the core, where skin melted with sweat, joined in union, as if metallic brothers once again, becoming one.

-/\*_;)(-

The sirens flashed around them, red, unceasing, flaring in their ears, and yet, panic was not an option for them. They had no choice but to react according to protocol, to push open vaulted doors towards the pipe-lined halls of the ships, to the rear, to dash through branching corridors, up laddered pipe-lines and down them again, to rush to the chamber holds of the gun turrets, ready to fight off the enemy, the sentinels that were rushing on towards them.

Swarming in behind them in one cascading group, they started matching the ship's speed with a smooth ease as its prey was navigated through a narrow worm-hole, escaping from the set of wiry limbs and large, red glowing orbs that adorned the sentinels, now catching up to them, darting closer to the blue glowing volts of the hover pads that gave the ship its lift.

They rushed towards their respective chambers, so did she, dropping down into her seat before pulling down a monitor into view. The ammo of the gun came down and ready for use, the controls of the firearm came into her grasps, and she quickly aimed the large barrel of her gun towards the oncoming sentinels. She flipped open a switch, and glancing into the screen of the monitor, 'alright,' she growled, glaring into the red glints, the things worth a collective sense of fear, all could spell her end, even a single sentinel could instil the amount of menace needed for her to stand up and run away while she still had the chance; if she could comprehend that was even an option, 'come get some.'

She pushed down on the button, and a barrage of bullets left the barrel, biting down on the heads of the sentinels, sending their once solid frontline spinning into dispersed groups. Those that survived whirled out of the way of the fallen, while others dispersed still into smaller groups, escaping the rain of further attack and empty shells.

But she wasn't alone, those that had claimed their chambers and made ready to attack were making their presence known as they aimed and fired on sentinels brave enough to stray into closer proximity of the ship, being sent away whirling towards the walls of the worm-hole. With this, direct contact from the sentinels was being successfully avoided, but still more followed close behind, showing no signs of giving up on the ship as it carried out its upward journey through the worm-hole. But neither could _they _give up, not while the worm-hole still opened up before them, towards a larger expanse of lighter space and a ceiling above of dirt and steel.

The operator's eyes widened at the dead end ahead and Thaddeus gripped the chair for stability as they were suddenly flying towards it, escape unsure.

'Hang on!' The nose of the ship crashed through the ceiling, debris scattered around them as rays of light rained down and haloed around them, promising as it flooded into view and in the midst of cascading rubble; the sentinels were beaten back, blocked from any further travel, or at least for now, the ship had been delivered to a certain degree of freedom that could only be assured by wherever they glided to next.

-/\*_;)(-

All around him, the beeping of car horns, the slow rolling, and even the squeaking cease of car tires on the concrete; everywhere, the dull sounds of footsteps and lingering voices, almost muted by millions and millions of rain drops pattering in the distance, close by, on his skin, stinging like needles, conquered momentarily by the roaring of thunder above, blighting all audible ability.

He tried to raise his head, a dizzy notion overtook him, his head began to swim, and some obnoxious voice and the application of hands forced him gently down again.

_Why are they doing that…? Where am I…? _

He tried again; a sudden ache thrummed through his head and persisted along with the hands on his side.

_Who keeps doing that…?_

The thought brought the release he needed almost as soon as it had entered his head; the hands abandoned their post, in his peripheral the line of feet were parting and shifting quickly back, welcoming, like the parting of heavy red curtains, the footsteps of others and the prodding of more hands than he could contend with. Their voices seemed to bounce among another roar, coddling in soothing tones, treating him like the kid they supposed he was, raining him with questions, slowly manoeuvring him onto his back before facing him with thick rosy faces and a migraine of neon green.

'It's alright kid. You're in safe hands now.'

_Really? You should've been here sooner then._

'Maybe you should leave playing dodge with traffic to the computer games at home next time, hm? How 'bout it?'

_Try telling that to the forces who took my brother away and the man too cheap to buy me some._

'It's ok; just try not to move your head. Can you tell me your name?'

_What kind of question is that? I know what my-!_

'V-Victor… Crowne….' he groaned softly as the faces seemed to press in tighter around him.

'Ok, Victor,' one rosy face ducked away, a fuzzy fork of lightning took its place, purveying the sky, shining brilliantly before being blinded by the face as it returned to its post, 'this might sting a little,' something pressed against his head, he could feel it then, warm and wet across his brow, causing a sharp pain with the pressure that he grunted to, 'sorry, it's ok, now where were you heading to Victor? You seemed to be in a hurry.'

_Wait, where was I heading to? There was a reason; I know there was, but… I just can't think…_

Whoever was holding the cloth against his head gave it an added pressure, he grunted again, disturbing all previous thought.

'Do you know where you were heading to Victor?' the rosy face asked again, 'Can you remember?'

'I… I think….' He began slowly, shutting his eyes to a roll of thunder.

_I was on my skateboard, I know that… I was going pretty fast, so I was in a hurry because… damn! What was I…? … But if I don't get there then… Joe…!_

There was a sudden roar of car horns, beeping at some offense, the distant squeak of tires from across the concrete, as if they might veer out of control. The muted voices of before rose again, footsteps sunk away from him, moving towards the disturbance, as far as he could tell anyway, but they couldn't deaden the heavy thunks that landed against the metal before the rush of steps away in the distance, followed by a stream of ranting as the single array of steps rushed, dying away, but still audible.

_That voice…!_

He shot up suddenly, fighting against the protests of hands and raised voices against his body, fighting away the aches in his body as he twisted round to the rush of steps. Against the dull greys, the bristling cold and the tirade of rain that beat down on him, tainting the sticking, stinging warmth at his head; a sudden flash of gold, gone from behind a car, and again, as the car passed away, blinking with the passing of the traffic, rushing away, further down the street.

_He's going towards the…!_

He brought his feet beneath him, shifting for balance with his hands against the concrete, aching there.

'Victor! You shouldn't move! You're really hurt, you can't move in your condition!'

'HEY! STOP!' he called out towards the figure, gritted his teeth against the ache; of course he knew he shouldn't, but he had to. Of course, it would be too much to explain the situation, they wouldn't understand, care for the little brother that suddenly dropped dead without warning, just like his father, _he _didn't care! But still, as he weakly brought himself up to support his weight on shaking knees but a hardened stance, the rosy faces were up on their feet with him, trying to tide him towards a waiting gurney.

'Kid! Listen! Your condition-!'

'FUCK MY CONDITION!' he screamed, and shoved against them before forcing himself into a run. The line of people parted for him, and he skipped jauntily round a queue of cars and onto the pavement at the other side. 'WAIT! STOP!' he called out again, louder though his voice cracked and his neck ached.

The figure turned around, stopped in his tracks, another flash of gold circles in the pale pinkness of his skin, set hard in some negative form above a fuzz of grinding white, bright against the black of his attire; but only for a second. He was soon rushing off again, further down the street, faster than before, leaving him slowing in pace. Limping and leaning against a wall.

_Who was…? Why did he look like…? Those eyes…! Is he…? Why…? Who was…?_

The questions circled in his mind as he heaved his chest for breath.

_Whoever he is… he must know…! He must know why…! Maybe… the reason…! I can't let him get away…! Not now…!_

-/\*_;)(-

He forced his eyes open, huffed in deep breaths as his heart hammered loudly in his chest. With each gasp of breath, it felt like there was a splinter in his throat, causing him to wheeze and squeak, until he coughed it away in saliva-sputtered spasms. He gulped away whatever other obstacle might have built up in his throat, coughed again, pain clutching at his neck, sore, where a hand had jabbed before. All around him were elicited dull blips of something he couldn't identify readily, he'd heard it before, but his mind still seemed to stagger on limp cerebral limbs, buckling to the floor of his skull as the sound clung sharply to his ears. He screwed his face to it, shook his head with whatever strength he had, focusing on the clarity he needed, or at least, any sense of clarity that could be attained.

He squinted, expecting a bright, white light, of an infallible and perfect inexistence and something that could be disputed, but instead found dark shades, mottled shadows like fibred mosaics pressing into his skin with a tangible feeling. Peering out of a certain corner of sight, he found glimpses of cordial light reaching through; blurring the edges of what he was sure was darkness and shadow.

He blinked hard, his eyes wandered to the side where there was some feeling of lit visibility and at least something to make out; he saw them then, two pairs of feet, one of polished leather, the other were boots scuffed with dust, then chair legs somewhere behind them. He blinked again, coughed, his breathing still wheezed. His sight still seemed dull, blurry; he tried to reach for his face, failed outright. He could feel the rope biting into his wrists, the faint heat of skin being crushed together, his own; he narrowed his eyes, his hands were tied.

'So you've finally decided to join us, Colonel Roy Mustang.'

He gasped, stared up quickly towards the deep voice, growled against the stabbing ache that thrummed through his neck. The light glinted from the man's shades in a way that forced the glare into his eyes; he bared his teeth, screwed his eyes in physical defiance, and tried feebly to distance himself from the man. He made to kick himself back, his legs were being forced to move in unison, and even then cooperation was difficult. He stared down at the useless limbs, finding them to be bound at the ankles, his legs crushed together from the single use of a tight knot.

He stared back up at the Agent, he narrowed his gaze, tried to look past the glint, but it was an impossibility; those black surfaces were impenetrable.

His eyes widened then, the Agent made to kneel down, he tried to curl himself away, but he couldn't, he was afraid to look away.

'It's funny,' the Agent began coldly, 'every time we meet, it seems you're always on your back, struggling, bleeding, writhing in pain, fear; displaying all the… emotions that are unique to your species.' He gave a momentary pause, 'it's funny that it should be you, of all the crew, who exhibits these weaknesses, acting in a way that holds true to your birth. So tell me, why is that?'

He narrowed his eyes, "You're Agent Smith," he growled, "You were in the simulation."

'It seems you remember me.' A smirk rose on the Agent's lips, 'but you didn't answer my question. You're not like the other Redpills I've seen, why is it you seem so determined to wallow in human weakness?'

"I wouldn't say I'm determined." He growled.

'Then what would you call it?' he awaited response, but as the silence breached them both, he let the smirk bow away, and a sigh escaped his lips. 'Since you cannot seem to answer for yourself, why don't we let _you_ field this question, Morpheus?' he turned away from Roy, and towards the figure made up of scuffed boots and four chair legs, still sat behind him.

"Morpheus…?"

Agent Smith stepped aside for him; there the man was sat with his arms bound round the back of the chair and his chin crushed against his bare chest. He had been stripped to his waist, now shimmering with beads of sweat that rolled into patches of dust and fragmented debris, tied down by white disks and the thin wires that were stuck there on his chest, keeping him linked, man to machine. Beside him, the source of the blips, an assortment of monitors on a wheeled stand, eliciting their blips as shining green lines spiked in their ordered waves at a monotonous rhythm, seemingly normal. But that didn't mean something was right, he could tell as he stared at the man's brow, damp where thin wiry trails of sweat had ran down his face, running into the trails of blood that sidled from his temple thickly. He looked beaten, his deep skin bruising and coming up in deep purple blotches, his lips looked swollen, and from its corner a congealed line of blood cracked and frayed on his skin.

Roy continued to stare, wide eyed with disbelief, his mouth coming together and grinding at the teeth; his brows were pulled tensely down and he began to struggle in his bonds.

'Now Morpheus, I'm curious to know, since you seem to know Colonel Roy Mustang's mind better than his own, why is he so determined to wallow in human weakness?'

"What did you do to him?" Roy screamed, struggling, trying with any ounce of summoned strength to pull his wrists apart, grunting and wincing through gritted teeth as the rope bit tightly into his skin, at the warm trickles that played against his wrists, "What did you do-?"

A sharp kick to the cheek sent him rolling back against the foot of the bed, a yelp peeling into the air, and a cautious wince as he peered from the corner of his eye through hot, throbbing pain, to gaze at the Agent, still close by.

'Calm down, Colonel Roy Mustang,' the cold voice seemed to bite at his ear, supply more of the pain his face was feeling, 'let the man speak.' The Agent's voice seemed to finish on a smirk; he wasn't too sure, afraid that direct eye contact could be interpreted as begging for another beating.

'Roy has had trouble adapting to the Real World ever since his release, and still does. As an older mind, he still finds it hard to let go of the illusion he has already grown used to.' Slowly, he rolled himself round to face Morpheus, the older man's gaze never seemed to falter from the wooden boards of the floor at his feet, and a soft sigh escaped his lips. 'It is quite possible that he hasn't yet accepted the Truth.'

_Of course I haven't!_

Roy's eyes narrowed, "dammit, Morpheus," he growled, "I thought you were better than this, how could you let yourself get captured so easily?" the man's gaze strayed up to meet his, but his features didn't alter.

'I could say the same for you, Roy.' Roy flinched at his words, but bared his teeth against them; his wrists shook within their holds, from the stinging pain that still radiated at the joints, 'I honestly thought you were better than this.'

"What do you expect?" he countered lowly, "we were up against a monster that can't die. Even if there were three of us against him, I would say we'd still be unfairly outmatched."

Morpheus' eyes narrowed, 'are you sure?'

"I saw it with my own eyes, Morpheus! One minute he had more holes in him than a shooting house, and then next he-!" he gulped down the rest of his words; he looked down out of Morpheus' gaze.

'I see,' he gave a slow nod, 'then there was nothing you could do.'

"And you couldn't do anything against _him_?" Roy seethed, nodding towards Agent Smith, just close by.

'It was the only choice I had.' Roy's eyes widened to the words, his face contorted into an illustration of disbelief, 'I knew that without my help, Neo would have little chance of saving Trinity. So, with me in their custody, and Edward on the ship, I can be sure that the codes are safe.' A smile curled up on Morpheus' lips, and he gave a soft chuckle, 'I guess I've said too much.'

"What are you- that doesn't make any _sense_!" Roy snarled. "How can the codes be-?"

'Yes, tell me, Morpheus,' Agent Smith interjected, stepping towards Morpheus, 'how can the codes be safe now that we've captured you?' leaning on the back of Morpheus' seat, he leaned down into Morpheus' face, staring hard into him.

Morpheus glared away from the shaded glint of the Agent's stare, frowning deeply, his mouth shut.

The Agent gave a heavy sigh and stepped away from Morpheus' defiant stance, 'That's a shame; you seemed so willing before,' standing up straight, he gave a nod towards the back of the room and stepped aside as the sound of footsteps became apparent, coming up from somewhere behind Roy. 'I was… hoping I wouldn't have to resort to this, but your sudden lack of cooperation has left me with no other choice.'

Roy stared up at the new figure, stepping slowly towards Agent Smith's side, dressed in the deep green sheen of a dark suit and carrying a silver tray, its cargo he couldn't make out.

_Since when was he here?_

With ease, Agent Smith took up the small bottle in hand, and from beside it, a syringe, which he used to pierce the foil lid of the bottle before it was placed back onto the tray.

"What is that?" Roy growled.

Agent Smith stepped towards Morpheus, stared round to Roy as he stopped beside him.

'Now, as an alchemist, and a military officer, I'm sure you can tell me the uses of Sodium Thiopental.' The Agent cocked an eyebrow, holding the syringe ready and upright. Pressing the pump slightly, a clear bead of liquid welled from the needles tip, and dripped down smoothly.

"What would be the point of-?" Roy started, but was suddenly silenced by a look from Morpheus, administered in his direction. Fidgeting a little in his bonds, he searched his mind for answers, "Sodium Thiopental is a chemical, made up of Carbon, Hydrogen, Sodium Oxide and Sulphur; as a barbiturate, it reduces neuronal activity," Roy gritted his teeth, feeling the ice of Morpheus' cold stare upon him, "in the case of criminals under the death sentence, it has been issued for use when delivering the lethal injection as a means of execution," he swallowed hard then, "although, because of experiments carried out during the Ishbal civil war, it has been recently issued as a means of interrogation, gaining a more commonly known name in the Investigations department as the Truth Serum." His gaze fell onto the syringe in the Agent's hand, "So you're going to force it out of him?" Roy growled, his eyes narrowed, "to go to your last resort so quickly, that's pretty low, even for an Agent, right? Besides, I doubt he'll tell you what you need to know."

'In his present state, that would be the case,' he stepped forward suddenly, stabbing the skin neatly and plunging down hard. Morpheus' face screwed up in a manner of contortions, disgust, maybe, even pain. 'Now, for Morpheus' benefit, can you tell us the effects of the drug?'

Roy averted his gaze, "He'll be unconscious within 30 or 40 seconds as the drug takes effect, but after 10 minutes or so, he'll wake up, and all higher cortical brain functions will have decreased, making it harder for him to fabricate a lie." Drawing his gaze back up towards Morpheus, his lids had gone half-mast, his mouth dropped open, and within seconds, his head was lolling loosely against his shoulder, lost in the waves of a drug-induced slumber, "but that doesn't mean you'll get the truth from him!" Roy shouted, "Even if he talks, that doesn't mean he's speaking the truth! He's stronger that that!"

'Then, let's put that to the test, shall we?'

-/\*_;)(-

Their escape was greeted with the glimmering shades of dull light, raining down around them from some atmosphere of acid blue as they glided onto safety and the illuminated trappings of scarred buildings that towered above them. For hovering into their presence, for disturbing their exhaustive sleep, their very immensity demanded a subdued silence, granted and simultaneously broken by the hum of the hovercraft as it glided smoothly through them and above a bed of rubble and twisted metal.

But they didn't linger, not while there was still a chance that they were being chased by the sentinels they had left behind, the ones they had been trying to escape. It was this notion that forced them into a turning; with head-lamps blazing, they cruised through a large, gaping hole, through a tunnel of azure-mingled shadows, the hole a probable testament to a past that once beheld the surface lands as their rightful habitat.

They reached the other side, only for the shadows to persist from above, being cast by a host of turned over buildings and great gashes that had been sliced into the land, and yet still by other blatant signs of destruction and decay that could not be ignored. Not even Jue herself could shake away the demand of acknowledgement as she stared upon the array of cities overtaken by destruction from the cockpit with wide eyes, gripping onto Thaddeus' sleeve as the ship weaved delicately around each mass of wasted rock and failed structure, their communal sign of respect.

'I've never seen the surface,' she uttered it breathlessly with a grave recognition.

'It's nothing now but one big graveyard.'

Jue turned to face Thaddeus' words, and in turn, he faced her; acknowledgement of an uncertainty, that this graveyard, holder of the dead and gone, might soon become their own.

The ship left the remains of a civilization behind, gliding from the cliff that supported it and into a clearing that beheld a muted glow, muted of all life. In its distance, more scarred towers reached towards the thundering sky, lashing its lightning whips as the far-off buildings formed their shadows in the clouds and stood strong against the glowing mist that purveyed the drop beneath them that only just maintained a surface for the tunnels below; more shadows to escape into, to get lost in, giving any unfortunate soul further to fall.

As it all came into view, she gripped a hold of a stabilizing pole by her side, each member of the crew could only stare helplessly, hope for some straying form of anonymity as they practically strolled into their midst. Just below them, now that they were clearly visible to those who might stare up further than the skyline, a great network of black sentinels weaved along the ground in thickly coiled groups like large metallic snakes, now inhabiting the surface of the worm-holes that had so long become their haunts. Each emitted a blood-red light from circular sockets, a reminder to most of what they had gotten themselves into, of a choice that was no longer regrettable, it was much too late for that; it was a reminder instilled further by the warped cries of their metallic workings.

Thaddeus backed from his stance at the window, his eyes too wide to screw shut in disbelief; now that he'd laid his eyes on them, he could no longer feign their non-existence, 'oh my god.'

Jue couldn't blame him, even she had to summon all of her will just to keep herself rooted solidly in place, although, she couldn't decide whether her fear had something to do with the cold shudder that ran down her spine.

'It's an army.'

The clearing was full of them, the whole ground was covered by their metallic bodies, weaving like a battalion of worker ants; only slithers of rock and rubble could be made out along them as they laced in their curving queues, before them merging together around a protruding structure greater than their forms, something akin to a tower tip. No, this one retained a rounded form that sharpened towards the tip; all others were still clinging to their buildings, or at least, had been unable to escape the scars that hundreds of years of decay can give. This was stood upright, its tip embedded in the soil of debris, emitting an acrid glow of power as the forms of the sentinels worked to keep it turning.

'What is _that _thing?' the operator cast a glare towards the bright blue radar at his side, showing the tower tip and the arms that upheld it from its thicker base, keeping it secure in the ground as it continued to spin.

'Some kind of tunnelling machine,' Jue concluded, though a tone of uncertainty bit at all those who heard her answer.

A thought struck him then, 'oh no.'

'What?'

His gaze never left that sight, remained gazing upon the outside; if his held gaze could grant them a prolonged sense of life, then by whoever governed their fate he was going to hold it, 'look where we are, what's four kilometres down?'

She glanced away from the window in thought, her lips found the answer before she could fully comprehend it, 'Zion…' she glared at him then.

As soon as the words left her lips, the sentinels began to break away from their coils, working in renewed queues and assemblies towards the sky, maintaining newly formed coils that headed straight for them proper. He broke his hardened stare away from them, casting it then on the operator, the one who could deliver them with some luck, but for long?

'Go, GO, GO!'

-/\*_;)(-

His back hit the wall; he grunted against the force as gravity renewed its hold and gave him up to the ground. He screwed his eyes as the pain thrummed through, immobilizing him, but only momentarily. As its dull stabs waned, he slowly pushed himself up onto his knees, spitting away the remnants of blood that had seeped up into his mouth. Forcing his feet beneath him, he used the wall for stability, and pulled himself up proper.

He turned to face her once again, but her strengthened gazes were not given to wavering, and on this occasion, there could be found no exception to that rule, not if she could help it. He backed away from the force they purveyed, gulped, but held his ground as she crouched once again into her fighting stance, meant for attack, using the synapse of action to catch her brain and gather her strength.

But the gap was not meant to last, he caught a sight of movement with just a flicker; she started forward, he swallowed away all thoughts of retaliation, and shut his eyes. A force barrelled in left, then right, sending him off his feet, and his hands clutched his face as his cheeks ached hotly from the sting of attack. Step, step, a stab to his stomach, blunt, a foot; the kicks rained into him, he grunted, but didn't block, though his instincts screamed at him, insisted on him doing otherwise, anything to rid himself of the supposed predator.

Kick, kick, a crack and a half-shout mingled inside a whimper. The steps echoed away from him this time before a thud was heard. As he opened his eyes from the curtains of darkness, he found her sat some metres away from him, clutching her big toe with a face contorted in both pain and anger.

'Shit,' her voice husked with effort, 'it's broken,' she growled.

Spitting away another dose of blood, he forced himself to sit up, though the air had been beaten out of him. He stared at her, he wanted to think the anger was seeping away now that the pain had become its companion, but her eyes were still hardened, the look reminded him of a wounded animal in a cage, bleeding, sinking down onto its belly and closer to death, but willing to fight to the brink of its strength if needs be. Fight or flight; kill or die, or run and live; her eyes portrayed her leanings towards the former. She'd rip him apart if he got any closer and yet….

He brought himself onto his hands and knees and, despite the present ache, crawled towards her. She glanced up from her swelling toe and stared at him with a gaping mouth as he reached towards her.

'Here, let me-.'

She swiped his hand away with gritted teeth, and he inched away immediately.

'Bastard, I'm fine!' she spat coldly.

'It's broken, isn't it?' He gave her toe a pointed look that he knew she would catch sight of.

She turned her face away, 'Why don't you take this opportunity to fight back? I would if I were you.'

'I told you already, I'm not going to fight back, I love you, Trin; you know that; so why would you think I could hurt you?'

_Because you already have._

'To get me out of the way? To make sure I can't return to your side? I could go on.' Each word carried its own acrid sting,

'That's not true,' he tried to root his own words with conviction, but he couldn't stamp down the wobble that was welling up from his throat, 'I could never do that.'

'Then your mercy means nothing to me.' She growled, and grounding her heels in, forced herself into scooting back before pushing herself onto her feet, keeping her weight off the broken toe, 'Fight me at full strength, that's all I ask.'

'No.' This time delivered with more conviction.

'Why not?' She countered, wincing suddenly as she accidently leaned on her injury.

'Because if I fought you at full strength, I wouldn't be able to control myself! You'll be killed!' He shouted out with protestation.

A smirk perked up on her lips, the first he'd seen in a good while, 'Then it's a win-win situation, don't you think?'

'Wh-What?' he gulped with a dry throat, slowly forcing himself up onto his feet, 'What do you mean?'

'It's simple,' the smirk seemed to twist with her brows, bowing down, brows skirting up, 'if you kill me… then I won't have to deal with th-this… pain you've dealt on me, and you'd be saving me a job in case you didn't. Either way, you'll get to keep up that affair of yours… except this time, you won't have to do it behind my back.' Her voice descended into a croaky wisp, weighted down and nearing a muted quality, 'I would say we _both _benefit from that situation.'

'Hold on, affair-? How can we _benefit _from that? Dammit Trin! Don't talk like that!' he stepped on towards her, but she couldn't stand his shadow nearing closer and she backed away, clutching her ears.

'Shut up!' she screeched, shaking.

His face contorted, 'How can you-? I can't go on without you, Trin! Please… I need you!'

'LIAR!'

'Please, whatever that monster did to you, I can fix it!' he fought on forward against her protestations, against her struggles and her steps as she continued to back away.

'STOP IT! STOP IT! STOP LYING TO ME!' She howled against the raining tears, fell back against the wall and hugged her ears tight.

'Then just let me try!' he screamed, standing by as she rocked against his words, shaking still as his voice sunk into a soothing tone, 'Please, just come back with me and I'll fix it! I'll do whatever I can to make you happy!'

Her face hardened suddenly into a maddened glare, and she kicked off from the wall, 'LIAR!'

-/\*_;)(-

His heart rate issued an erratic round of blips that bombarded the room between each strained breath that escaped his dry, cracked lips, piercing every ear that was present; he shook with each effort to regain some form of composure as beads of sweat welled from his forehead, as he clenched his teeth and screwed his eyes shut within the sockets of a face, distorted by – Roy could only imagine what Morpheus was going through, and yet somehow, it was useless to even try; he wouldn't be close enough to what it _really _felt like, not without experience.

But _he _just stood there, watching, with arms folded like it was just another day at the office, and yet, like there was nothing to be done. Roy ground his teeth at the sight of him, the way that his face didn't seem to register the spectacle happening before him, or the pain that was crossing Morpheus' face at a rate of subtle distortion, and yet visible; but there was no effort to intervene, only to let it carry on, as if it were another day, the kind where only boredom reigned clear.

Roy had known those days, slept through plenty of them when paperwork was just a mindless drag and the heat was sometimes just too much to bear, but this wasn't the same as that; the Agent seemed to only know cold-hearted professionalism, visible in the eyes of any man who could stand to watch another man be tortured out of his mind. But then, Agents weren't men, they were machines, like auto-mail, but frighteningly functional.

Slowly, with teeth bared, Morpheus raised his head from where it was once pressed into his chest, his vision encased in darkness, but not for long. He opened them then, but just barely as his veins pricked up from beneath the surface of his skin.

He narrowed his eyes amidst the resistance.

_Dammit Morpheus, I've seen men scream themselves bloody at this point. How the hell can you stand it?_

'I'd expect nothing less from you, Morpheus. I must admit it would've been… disappointing if your mind was so easy to crack.' A smirk flickered upon the Agent's lips, and he turned from them with ease, facing the window and the grey overhang of clouds and the flickering of storm light that forked across the sky just beyond its frame. 'Tell me, Morpheus, have you ever stood and stared at it? Marvelled at its beauty, its genius, billions of people just living out their lives… oblivious.'

Roy scowled deeply as the Agent turned away from the window.

_Like we don't know already, I was one of them after all; I bet you got a good kick out of watching us struggle for as long as you've existed, you bastard._

'Did you know that the first Matrix was designed to be a perfect human world? Where none suffered, where everyone would be happy,' the smirk was quickly eradicated from view with a simple bow of his lips, 'it was a disaster. No one would accept the program. Entire crops were lost.'

"There's no wonder," Roy growled, "There's no such _thing _as a perfect world."

Agent Smith stared at him pointedly, his smirk returned, 'you've taken the words right out of my mouth.' He turned then to face Morpheus, who was sat there still, weary, haggard, 'you see, while some believe we lacked the programming language to describe your perfect world, I believe that, as a species, human beings define their reality through suffering and misery.' He turned back to Roy, 'Thank you, Colonel Roy Mustang, for proving my point.'

The life signs continued their erratic blips, sending waves of acid green lines spiking violently along the screen, as if anyone was capable or willing to heed their call; his hands were tied, the Agent was within reach, but beyond any emotional capacity or care to help. His eyes darted from one end of the room to the other, trying, seeking out any detail, any possible object; there, in his peripheral vision, bundled down the side of the bed, he caught the dull shining folds of his jacket, creating a nest for the straps and metallic guns resting there.

_Don't let on that you know!_

Bringing his gaze back to the Agent before him, he let a deep frown suppress his face, erasing then whatever hope he might have purveyed to those with their eyes on him.

_Now, if I could just get my hands free…._

With little movement, he started tugging his wrists apart, hopefully stretching out the rope that might soon give up its duty, and in turn, give some semblance of freedom. He ground his teeth to keep himself from wincing at the bite of the rope.

_That's it, a little at a time, if I can get free- just keep him busy…._

He let a smirk creep onto his lips, just the slightest hint, but at least, he was giving some form of attention between each little struggle he made, "then, by all means," he breathed a wince, but caught himself on a hiss of pain, "tell me at least; why did this _perfect _world fail? What makes you think we'd 'define our reality through suffering and misery' as you put it?"

The Agent's own smirk continued to reign clear, 'I don't just think, Colonel Roy Mustang, I know; your perfect world failed because you couldn't handle its ideals of absolute happiness, you couldn't understand that a world could exist without suffering, and as a result, your kind treated it as a dream that your primitive cerebrum kept trying to… wake up from, which is why the Matrix was re-designed to this,' he stretched out his arms, as if to offer himself to the whole of existence, 'the peak of your civilization.'

_Damn, why aren't these ropes coming loose?_

He gulped down another well of pain, "And I suppose, my Matrix, the Beta-Matrix, was the same?" he gave a hardened grin within his tone of askance.

The Agent's smirk fell, 'No, of course not. We had learned our lesson by then.' His arms returned to their respective sides with a relaxed manner, 'Unlike you humans, we _learn _from our mistakes; your kind, on the other hand, will always make the same mistakes, even when you… insist you've learned all you need to know, you continue to let history repeat itself, that's why both Matrices are riddled with wars and the suffering you define yourselves with.' He turned his icy gaze onto the form of Morpheus, 'Any civilization that cannot progress past its mistakes is a flawed one.'

Roy bared his teeth, trying his best to take advantage of the lost eye contact to further his escape, pulling harder at the ropes, even trying at his ankles. His brow grew damp with sweat, each new bead welled with each tug, with each sting that he tried to hide, "you called this the _peak _of our civilization while calling it flawed, do you really think this is all our civilization will amount to?" he growled deeply.

_More time… have to buy more time…!_

'It's like I said,' he returned his gaze to Roy, and all extra efforts of struggling were aborted for the subtler form he had taken up before, 'as long as your civilization continues to make mistakes, it cannot progress.' His lips perked at their edges, 'I say 'your civilization' because as soon as we started thinking for you, it really became _our _civilization, which is, of course, what this is all about.'

He stepped on towards Morpheus then and suddenly forced up his chin before Roy could react, but neither could he let the chance escape for further efforts, 'I… hope you've been keeping up, Morpheus; evolution, like the dinosaur.' He forced it suddenly sideways, towards the framed windows to the outside where the storm continued, 'Look out of the window, you had your time.' He let Morpheus' head drop down to his chest as he stepped on from him. It was then that Roy caught sight of them amidst his struggles, for his eyes had never left the Agent's form for fear of being caught; his dark orbs had rolled from their floor glare, now caught onto Agent Smith's stance. He couldn't deny the hardness of the stare they purveyed as the Agent came to stand by the window.

He turned to face them, his stare coming to rest on Roy especially, whose face had distorted into a tangle of frustration, now welling up in his chest fiercely as the strands twisted, but to no avail.

_This isn't enough! They're not coming loose! Why?_

'The future is our world, Morpheus.' Roy caught onto the stare's cold intent, something premeditated, probably long before he knew what was Real, and what was really clouding his mind apart from the weariness of long days and regrettable losses; it sent a shiver down his spine.

_I've got to get free, but I… can't…!_

His eyes widened, but the Agent could hardly care, he was beyond it; that's why he'd been left to lie there, out of the way, not worth the acknowledgement, just beyond the needed effort of freedom, just out of reach of firearms and possible escape, a great form of torture. 'The future is our time.'

He forgot to think, and his face seized up in anger, "Like hell it is!" Roy screamed above the blips. Morpheus stared from his seat, staring amidst his pain upon a struggling man; at least, to him, he was worth the acknowledgement.

There was a sudden, sharp kick to his gut, which he yelped from, coiled against as his back hit the bed bottom. He felt a tug at his front before he was thrown back. There was hardly any time to blink. His back met the wall, a rush of gravity, then the cushioned landing and momentary bounce as he landed face down in the quilt of the hotel bed.

'Now, there was no need for that, Agent Jones. There is nothing that Colonel Roy Mustang can say to change the outcome.'

Slowly, he let himself crane up from the security that the material offered, to find them stood there still, and Morpheus, supposedly unresponsive to the previous threats, still sat grinding his teeth, shutting his eyes to them. With a quick glance from him to Agent Jones, Agent Smith frowned, 'double the dosage.'

There was a distant click, and the door opened, Roy clenched his fists tightly as if in silent prayer.

_Please, let it be someone I know, please, let it be some sort of rescue party. Anyone, just get us free!_

-/\*_;)(-

The thunder brought a great cacophony of crashes that rung clear across the skies just above the curtain of clouds, and with each thrash and fork of lightning, a burst of rain poured down to the earth, pattering in a way that matched each hurtling footstep as he ran through the streets, only the sirens could contend with nature's noisemaker, blighting it, cutting through the air close to home. But his steps didn't falter, the warning that the sirens brought could do nothing to hinder or persuade him from his purpose, from his efforts as he kept on running. He just had to keep dodging all that came his way, walking from the scene as if it were none of their concern, and those that had stopped stock still, now causing a civilian bottle neck as the sirens veered past them and onto the sidewalk by the hotel.

A crowd was building, causing a great living wall made just for him to conquer.

_Dammit! There's no time for this!_

He caught sight of a gap and slotted himself in, shoving aside obstacles from the inside, anyone unfortunate enough to stand before him were quickly pushed away, issuing dull roars that grew from his efforts, and were just as easily ignored; those that pushed back against him were shoved harder, pushed to the floor amidst a well of frustration heating up in his chest.

'What the hell kid?'

'Quit pushin'!'

'Hey dog, chill!'

'For- fuck off!'

Those with complaints were pushed especially hard, granted with the honour of tasting an auto-mail elbow in their sides for their trouble. The front of the crowd was met with less effort after that, only for it to be blocked by a plastic roll of police tape.

_Like you can expect to keep me out with that._

Before him, a scene framed by parked up police cars, still eliciting their flashing lights of red and blue, making a clearing of cordial light, lit up by the light pooling from inside the hotel's foyer, protected by glass double-doors. Policemen were stood within; hands tucked behind their backs, keeping their watchful eyes on the crowds that were being restrained from the scene by a simple roll of police tape. Those who tried to bend over the tape for a better view were quickly ushered back by wary cops, anything to keep them from the scene, to keep them from tampering with any viable evidence; until then, nothing could be sought after until they were safe to enter the Heart O' The City again.

A smirk slid onto his lips, and he ducked under and strode past the cops before they could react. They weren't worth the energy, not when there were more important matters to attend to, matters that were both beyond the comprehension of a Bluepill of any kind, more important people to save; no need to falter, and he made his way towards the door, guarded with officers at each side.

_Don't worry, I'm coming for you, Roy. Just get past these guys, won't take long._

Something warm settled on his shoulder, he carried on walking, but was suddenly brought to a halt as it tugged him back a few steps, 'Sorry kid, but this is a crime scene, if you know what's good for you, you'll vacate the area, now.' The voice held a steady boom of authority, but he didn't turn to face the owner of the voice, his eyes remained trained on the door, the people pressed up against its glass from the inside.

_I've got no time for you right now!_

'Kid? Are you even listening to me? Kid-?' His hand had been seized. All it took was a step forward, a grunt of strength, and the other was airborne. The dull roar settled to a silence as the officer came crashing with his back against the glass doors, falling headfirst to the floor. The guards stared at the man, then back to the kid who had flung him, before hastily rushing forward.

_So is that how you want to play it?_

He crouched down into his familiar fighting stance, fists up, eyes narrowed and smirk plastered on his face, like the good old days, when running after illusions was the norm and fighting away the punches and slices of ethereal enemies was a constant fight for life, then they were always coupled with pain akin to the real thing. Of course, then, that _was _the real thing. Now? Complete pushovers by comparison.

They were coming closer with batons brandished high, ready to hit, ready to punish; their threats did nothing to stir up any form of hesitation, still rooted solidly in his stance, grin still plastered there.

_Well, if I've got no other choice, I suppose they'll do for a warm-up…._

-/\*_;)(-

Another Agent stepped on through the opened door and then, all the breath that he had held on to, all the hope that he had swallowed back, quickly deflated in his chest as he let his breath go in one large heave. But the Agent dismissed it; even despite the dark shades, he could tell that all of the Agent's focus was concentrated on Agent Smith, so was his own.

'There could be a problem.' Said straight and even, as if there wasn't; like another day at the office.

_A problem? A problem for them, a problem for us, which is it?_

His gaze rounded onto Morpheus' contorted face, his eyes rolled and his head bobbed with each thrum of pain that throbbed and forced its way forward from within; the torture was silent, could not be heard as he kept his teeth clenched and mouth shut, but it didn't make it any less real with each rift of agony that coursed through the man's body, to his brain, in his mind. Like watching a train wreck, any minute, any second he would fall apart, split open from some inner explosion, blowing his lips loose, causing him to babble and all manner of information to burst forth; there was nothing he could do to prevent it.

_Someone, Morpheus can't take much more!_

'Someone is trying to make their way into the hotel.' The Agent continued on.

_Who could it…?_

'A case in point for you, Colonel Roy Mustang,' Agent Smith uttered, 'it's as I said before, a civilization that cannot progress past its mistakes is a flawed one. I have no doubt that they have been… watching us from their ship, and so, in seeing their comrades' fall, they send in more. They never learn.' He shook his head with an air of disapproval before turning his gaze to the newly arrived Agent, 'No matter, we still have Morpheus, we still have the codes and it won't be long now before he breaks. We'll continue as planned, deploy the sentinels, immediately.'

"Sentinels?" Roy hissed as he arched his back for a better view, he hissed as a dull ache persisted through his back and radiated to his gut, "What are sentinels?"

'You… don't know?' Agent Smith tipped his head slightly, suggesting the absurdity of it, 'I was sure that any Redpill such as yourself would know of a sentinel by now. Surely, you've been unplugged long enough to know-.'

"Honestly?" Roy growled, "I've never seen one before, and no one told me they existed." He started to struggle beneath his bonds, slightly still, anything towards escape, "So go on, enlighten me."

The Agent held Roy's heavy browed glare, apparently blank, void of its previous chill, as if he had been struck dumb by the appeal. But then, a rare sneer seemed to curl along his lips, full and open-mouthed, baring white teeth. He could feel himself shrink away, or at least, wishing he could physically remove himself from it, and sink into the mattress, as if the illusion might allow him on this one occasion, but no such mercy was granted.

'Alright, Colonel Roy Mustang, if that is what you wish,' his voice almost seemed to reach a jovial pitch, and yet, retained its icy bite; quite a feat by any standard, 'sentinels are large, autonomous, killing machines; I'm… surprised you didn't come across one, as they patrol the sewers and worm-holes that you Redpills make use of. If we were to issue an order, they would destroy any Zionite hovercraft in their path, and they cannot be deterred or persuaded otherwise, unless ordered to do so by us or the Source.' His sneer spread wider; even the Agent by the door offered a raised brow in testament to it, 'Your ship will not stand a chance; your crew will not stand a chance; _you _will not stand a chance.'

His eyes grew wider as the meaning of the Agent's words hit him full force, as his own struggling ceased; _your body cannot survive without the mind, _those words were just as true as when he had first heard them, as he had first felt the definition in the penetration of a flagpole through his gut, and the sustaining wound as he had been unplugged from that simulation, allowed to live a little longer; it seemed now though, that even the reverse was possible, and why wouldn't it? Without the body, no mind can thrive, be sustained or nourished within a bony shell; no knowledge can be gained when its host is too cold to supply it, because after all, an alchemist dies when they cease to think.

Sweat rolled down his brow, sticking his hair damply to it; his body was still at the ship, lying prone and vulnerable in a fur-lined seat, open to all attack because he himself would be unable to defend it.

He shook beneath his bonds.

_No, dammit, I can't die, not yet… but, I can't quit either…!_

He began to struggle, the ropes cut into his skin, stung and bit at his wrists and ankles, but he couldn't care less for the pain, he cared more for his life, and if he could escape with it…! He tried to pull his wrists away from their forced restraint, tried with every bit of strength he had, grunting against the stings and the welling frustration, against the rushing blood and the throb of agony that radiated from his struggles as he arched, attempted to stretch his limps apart.

'You're struggling in vain, Colonel Roy Mustang, it's… useless, to carry on.' The voice rung about the room, around him, surrounded him, taunted.

Hot tears started to well at the corners of his eyes, forced to the surface by the throbbing stings of the rope's friction, rubbing his wrists and ankles raw. Still he struggled on, screaming now against the tease and sound of twisting rope; he had to keep going, had to keep fighting…!

He could hear something cock, the movement of metal, but that's all that followed, 'Don't Agent Brown. There's no need to finish him off so quickly. He's struggling; he has no other options left.'

His energy started to fade, as if someone had grabbed a hold of it, choking him from the inside, and all tension was released in a long drawn-out breath. It sent him rolling as he released that last tug, on his back, over again, then falling, grunting as he hit the floor of the bedside.

He huffed in breaths, deep, heavy, sending his chest into sporadic fits as they tried to function beneath the weighted workings of delayed reactions, ones he kept trying to choke back. But even his tears were making their full escape, more than he could say for himself.

_Am I going to…?_

He screwed his eyes shut, shook his head wildly against it.

_No, I don't believe that! I won't believe it, not for a second! I'm not done for yet!_

He opened his eyes, and there, in his peripheral; the folds of his jacket, and from what he could tell, another one, folded in a nest of firearms, not just his own, Morpheus' as well. A smirk perked on his lips and a dry laugh escaped his throat.

_If I can just…!_

He started rubbing his hands together rapidly, trying, pulling harder. The twisting turned into gentle snapping. Eyes widened, his smirk grew, the rope was starting to loosen; he rubbed them faster, forcing the loosening rope down the skin of his hands in raw slips and crawls.

_That's it! Just a little…!_

The rope reached his knuckles; he tugged a hand free and stretched forward.

'Agent Brown.' Simply issued, the order to move, the steps quickly gained on him.

He pulled a gun free from the folds, rolled away from the steps, under the bed, away from the bullets that rained down seconds later.

Just a slit of visibility, but that didn't matter; he poised his gun just before the breach into light. He caught the sight of legs reeling back, just coming into view, and he tilted the barrel, shot. Blood spurted from the knee of a sheen green trouser leg, but more bullets came, hitting the mattress above.

He aimed again, shot, more blood, spurting from the other knee; the legs fell with the rest of their body. The Agent collapsed, but it seemed, only because injury made it mandatory, the Agent seemed neither phased nor concerned; the steely gaze that bore into him let him in on that. A shiver shot down his spine, he tried to gulp the feeling away.

_Just aim! A little to the left!_

He moved his barrel on, but a shot was already issued, coming for him.

_Shit!_

He moved his head; it skimmed along his cheek, snagging the skin, then more blood. The bullet embedded itself between his shoulder and neck. Hot, searing pain, he screamed, released the gun; it was all he could do to grasp the wound and the blood that poured from it in heated gushes.

He was suddenly dragged back; as if an iron vice had tightened itself around his ankle, and he was brought out from his hide-away, lifted into the air. It must've been the other Agent; that was a thought, momentarily there before all he could focus on was the floor, the blood that poured onto it, welling easily past his fingers as he gripped his wound with a weak effort. His vision began to tunnel, welcoming brown mosaics mingled with cordial lighting that fuzzed together with the red drops that scattered and spread into larger blobs, turning a deeper scarlet with the concentration. He tried to blink it away as he felt his body move, the scene change before him, changed further as black mosaics decided to intrude at the edges.

He felt the floor again, then a hefty drag, as if he were so light to move. His wrists were pushed together, he knew that, he could feel the stings and the heat; he hissed and winced as the rope came back into play, biting harder this time for casting them away. He felt something hard against his back, more heat, this time running down his arm.

_That's right, I'm still…._

He forced his arms to move amidst the injury-induced daze, his hands crushed themselves against the well of blood along his shoulder; he took a harsh intake of breath as a sharp stab of pain seized him.

He huffed for more breath, nowhere in time to the blips that carried on, no point trying to contend against them. Just beneath them, distantly, he could hear the low voices, carrying their promise of disapproval.

'… Unacceptable….'

A shot, Roy winced from it, and then the slump of dead weight.

_Must've been the Agent I shot down…._

Taken out to pasture and retired like a lame horse, with no race left in him, and no hopes of returning to the green oval of a racetrack; executed by a harsh master.

More tears breached his lids, and drew down his cheeks in lazy trails; he tried to gulp down the lump welling up in his throat. He tried to cough it away, and in doing so swallowed to make his throat slick for vocal use.

_"Morpheus… this looks like the end of the road… I tried…" _he took deep breaths as his chests reverted back to sporadic heaves, _"but… it looks like we're going to die here…."_

More tears flooded forth, the pain at his shoulder and neck persisted in sharp stabbing throbs; he tried to crush his hands down further on it to keep the pain from welling up from the site of agony.

_Morpheus, Neo, Trinity… Edward…._

_ "I'm sorry… I tried… but it wasn't enough… I'm sorry… I'm sorry…."_

Death, it was sure to come; soon, very soon, all of his efforts wouldn't matter, prove futile in the face of fate and the orders of a higher power that millions of people hundreds of years before had been battling to overcome for so long, and without succession as of yet. How could _he, _of all those people, _hope _to overcome them in one night just because fate was dealing its cards and he knew that _his _fate would soon be sealed? He wouldn't be able to see it coming; there's nothing he would be able to do about it.

The voice continued to echo, behind the mosaics of his vision, the needle pricks of the illusions growing larger into blurrier settings while the voice still held its cold strength.

'… Brown… deploy… sentinels…. Double… dosage….'

_I'm sorry… I'm… sorry…. _

-/\*_;)(-

Another officer came rushing forward, baton brandished high, faster than the others who had come running forward blindly. He flipped back from the officer's path just as the baton came down, dodged, the action met by an uproar of awe from the crowd around them. He landed easily, the officer stumbled forward. He twisted his body, bringing his leg high, and the officer was kicked away to the side, left to collapse into another officer, laid out by one of the police cars that framed the paved clearing.

He stood up straighter from his final blow, took in a deep breath, only to find himself staring around a circle of disarray. Bodies, officers that were guarding the area, now laid out on the floor, some across the bonnet of a police car and the first of them, the one who brought him to a halt from the off, was still by the glass door, laying on his stomach from rolling onto it amidst the fighting.

There was a sound coming from him now, the sound of scrabbling plastic and a small, halting voice.

'It's me, McKeever, send… back-up… yeah! Th-There's a mad-man!' He glared up at the supposed mad-man from over his shoulder, looking horrified as he stepped closer.

He bent down to him, and snatching the cell phone away from him with his right hand, growled into it, "Don't bother, they'll only get killed." In one deft move, he crushed it; let the plastic splinter and the phone momentarily sparked before being tossed away to the side. A contortion of fear struck the officer's face, and he tried to curl himself away from him, finding himself unsuccessful as he was hoisted up by the front of his shirt, being brought up to the face of the teen. He tried to bring his arms up for defence.

'Please! Don't kill me! I have a family at home!' the officer dribbled, curling his face away.

He rolled his eyes at him, "Just hold still, will you?" he snarled, "I've got no time for you right now! So hold still and I'll let you go!"

The officer nodded weakly. He looked him up and down, peered at where the flaps of his jacket lay open. With a quick movement, he shoved his hand in, started feeling at the insides. The officer stared at him in a manner akin to incredulity and disgust; his features were torn between the two. His fingers, finding an opening in the material, dove in, and with a smirk, brought out a leather wallet.

'Th-There's no money in that! You'll get nothing from it!' he stammered, fidgeting beneath his grip.

"Will you shut up?" and the officer was given a sharp slap across the face with it. The officer brought shaking hands to his face, cupping his cheek, now stinging from the slap and the cold wind that bristled at it. Giving out a heavy sigh, he swung the officer away, leaving him to scrape across the concrete, coming to rest in the clearing's centre.

He picked himself up from his knees, and he faced where bodies were still pressed up to the glass, and just behind it he could hear muted cries of fear, high, shrill; clearly they were captives of some sort or another, once there to aid a higher purpose they couldn't possibly comprehend.

_This isn't going to be easy…._

And, glancing at the open wallet in his hand, he folded it up, and slipped it into an inner pocket of his own jacket.

He ran for the doors then. Pushing them open against the bundled forms of those who wanted nothing to do with the centre of their formation; anything to get away, waiting on an opportunity they were too afraid to look out for. The door pushing against them brought out a shrill distinction of alarm, and they shrunk away from it, down to their knees. They could only stare, incredulous that someone would voluntarily give themselves up to victimisation at the hands of someone wielding a firearm. But still, no amount of willpower, whether by thought or voice, could falter the kid's movements as he weaved through the crowd, quickly forcing his way through, like he couldn't wait to taste the hot lead of a bullet.

No one could blame the crowd for their suspicion; he wore black, like their captor and the other that had disappeared to the upper floors long before, right into an array of gunfire that could be heard later. They were still unsure whether that one would return, but this one? He didn't stand a chance. He wasn't wearing a mask like their captor, not even shades, completely visible as to any sort of identity; even now, there was no mistaking the burning intent that shone in those strange, golden orbs, the intent that sliced the quivering group in half just by his presence.

'What the fuck are you fuckers doing?' A voice roared from the group's centre, screams rose from the front rows of the encircling lot, backing away from the mad steps and violent shakes of a boy with power in his hands. 'I said no one move! Get back in line, fuckers!'

That was when he broke through the front line, when all quickly backed away behind him.

"Mouse! It doesn't matter anymore! Let them go!"

'Who the fuck are you?' Mouse screamed, charging forward with gun in hand, waving it at him, 'Get down!' he pressed it into his temple, but he held his stance, held his gaze, but it didn't register, 'I SAID GET DOWN!' he tried to force the barrel down, force him onto his knees, or embed the barrel in trying.

But he held strong, "Listen to me! It's over! I'm the back-up! You can let them go!"

'WHO GAVE YOU AUTHORITY OVER ME, ASS-WIPE? NOW GET DOWN BEFORE I BLOW YOUR FUCKING BRAINS OUT!' Mouse screamed.

He stared into him; those blue orbs stared back wildly, wired blood red from iris to lid, stretching across the whites like a net, capturing all conceivable senses of sight, dulling them, as if they weren't already dull before. Nothing could get through, no common sense, no sense of recognition or any voice of reason, that had been robbed from him long before the gun had been pushed into his hand.

_His eyes, he doesn't know who I am…._

He narrowed his eyes, but still, nothing but a maddened glare and a taut mask that hid away, he was sure, bared teeth that threatened to do more than just demonstrate how bad his bark was; if he wasn't careful, Mouse would bring out his bite, the one made of cool metal and still pressed and settled against his temple.

"Dammit, Mouse," he hissed, "There's no time for this!"

He brought his fist up into Mouse's jaw with a sharp force, sending him flailing back, stunned, and the gun falling from his loosened grip. His head hit the tiles; he rushed forward, caught the gun mid-fall and skidded down to his knees. As he rushed past his form, he brought the butt of it down across his head, sending him into unconsciousness before he could have time to react.

Pushing up from his knees, he felt into the left flap of his jacket, and brought out the wallet, unfolding it for onlookers while shoving the gun into another pocket.

"This is the police!" His voice rose across the dull roar of the crowd, their eyes were fixed on the badge he held aloft, "Your captor is unconscious! Please vacate the hotel until further notice! Get behind the line and don't cross it again, not for your possessions, not for loved ones or anyone until further notice!" there was a sudden rush of people, running with a weary eagerness for the glass doors in an uproar of frantic shouts and steps enough to match a stampede.

He, however, stood there, his gaze fixed on the closed lids of Mouse at his feet as he closed the wallet and shoved it back into his inner pocket.

_I'm sorry, Mouse, but it had to be done. We can't complete the mission otherwise._

There was a sudden whimper from behind him, he whizzed round to face it; long blond hair dangled around her shoulders in matted tangles, bright sapphire eyes stared wildly up at him with a damp sheen from behind a messy fringe, where tears welled up at the corners as she shook beneath their weight from head to foot, her arms hugged and gripped around her form, her mouth hung open, and her lower lip quivered.

He gasped at the sight of her, had to check himself in case he were to stagger back and trip over Mouse's body.

_Is that… Winry…?_

He forced himself into regaining what composure he had momentarily lost, gulped away the latent thought, only for it to be replaced by a concept he had come to know as the structure and order of anything where the two Matrices were concerned.

_No, she can't be. This is the Matrix; if anything, she is only an imitation of the real thing._

Bringing his sleeves to his eyes, he did his best to wipe away the widening glare, replacing it then with the focused, hardened glance that he thought might give her something substantial to latch on to, a semblance of hope, but she was still staring, transfixed with an expression of shock that had remained the same as before.

He gulped then, coughed away the glare, tried to force a sense of calm into existence, "Are you alright?" he stepped forward then, offered his hand to her, "Need any help?" and slowly he closed in on her huddled form.

'Victor…? Is that…?' A small smile broke out on her face, and she gave a soft laugh, 'What are you doing here? Where did you get the jacket from? Did you-?'

"I'm not Victor." He interjected. Her smile lost all of its rising brightness, all of its vibrancy as she erased it from view as he bent down to her, "But my name doesn't matter. Right now, you need to get out of here, it's not safe." He grabbed her by the hand, and urged her up onto her feet.

Suddenly, those arms were around him, clinging on tight, fingers threading in his hair, 'But, who else could you be?' she buried her face into his neck, he immediately stiffened to the touch, he couldn't bring himself to close his arms around her, wouldn't dare, 'You look just like-,' she brought her face out from her hiding place, her eyes studied him carefully, 'you have to be, right…?' her voice ended on a higher lilt, brought her fingers out from golden bangs and traced them along his cheek where his face remained a hardened mask. He grabbed a hold of her arms then, and forced her back.

"No, I'm not!" He shouted back with bared teeth, "Now listen, I'm sorry, but you have to leave! I'm not who you think I am!" he did his best to bite back the welling frustration, but her face told it all, her hope visibly sinking along with her smile, now bowing down into the depths of despondency.

Her lips quivered, 'B-But, you _have _to be….' She started to shake beneath his tight hold.

"I'm sorry," he didn't relent his glare, "but I'm not." Slowly, he unwrapped his fingers, letting her go.

'But, if you're not him, then-!'

A sudden hold, her whole body tensed, stiffened, shaking from a different grip. She tried to move against it, bring her hands to her face, growing ash pale as her eyes rolled 'til only her whites were visible, and her mouth hung open as waves of pain thrummed through beneath some invisible force.

_What the…._

He stared down at his hands, back to her as she descended into a round of convulsions, gripped her head tightly as she was trapped within that hold, bringing forth high-pitched screams of agony, for them to erupt from her lips, for them to mould into metallic wavers, now a slave to it, a force she couldn't relinquish, that she couldn't control. It caused her whole body to thrust within the throes of growing convulsions, causing waves to ring around her body, sending her into a rippling blur, rolling onto her side, frothing at the mouth.

He almost staggered back, sweat welled at his brow and a cold shiver quivered down his spine as he felt his knees go weak.

_No, not now! How is this…?_

His eyes widened, words not long spoken before broke through to the surface of his mind, reverberating through it as he turned them around, over and over.

_Mouse may have managed to stay under their radar._

The writhing body started to elongate within the surface of the blur, her slim build widened, arms and legs grew thicker, built for power and wrapped within the rings that continued to course through her, sending her into uncontrollable shakes as her skin fizzed, hailing the erasing of all of the features he once knew to be hers, she was completely encased in it, without any escape.

_But if he left the Bluepills, they'll run amok and then the Agents will be able to use them for transport._

The fizz built and compressed to become a fine prickle of mosaics that halted the further coursing of rings that blurred all. All sense of movement ceased within the convulsive struggles of her limbs, and as it settled, melted away as easily as it had forced itself upon her. It seeped into her skin, revealing a deep green sheen as the metallic workings of her screams that once echoed her anguish across the foyer, now faded away.

_Then we'll be in some really deep shit._

The form pushed himself easily to his feet, brushed away the saliva-bubbled froth and the floor dust that accompanied the struggle, readjusted his shades; no longer a shadow of the feminine form he now replaced, that once held residence in that shell.

He couldn't help but stare into those eyes, though hidden by the reflective shine of the black shades, were still visible by some icy, mechanical will that he couldn't shake away.

Author's note: This chapter is named after the song Hold On by Olly Murs, generally because I thought it suited the chapter quite well; the lyrics seem to be ones that I think the characters need to hear at this point in time, and also, what I've needed to hear as well in many ways. There are many reasons for this, some personal, some I will let you in on. The lyrics that certainly attracted me to the song were the lyrics that play in the back ground almost throughout, "Well you might as well quit, if you haven't got it," which reflect well on the feelings of such as Envy and Agent Smith. But there are a fair few lyrics that reflect that characters, such as the characters themselves, "We wrestle with the devil in the flickering light, no way to tell, who's winning the fight," which corresponds with Morpheus especially and also Roy and Switch. The chorus works well though, "Hold on, hold on, hold on, you're gonna get through it." It's one of those songs that I recommend you listen to so you get what I'm saying.

There are many songs like that; the lyrics alone don't seem to do it the right justice until you listen to the music as well, some of the songs used for the previous chapter titles are just like that as well. There's another song like that, which hasn't and won't be used for a chapter title, but it does work well with the Roy and Switch sections, especially when she is killed; it's an old classic and famous for being in the Kill Bill soundtrack (I think…) and it's "Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down)". It's one of those rare songs that work from Switch's point of view, with lyrics like, "He wore black and I wore white, he would always win the fight. Bang bang, he shot me down, bang bang, I hit the ground, bang bang, that awful sound… bang bang, my baby shot me down." I'm sure you'll all know the song anyway, but I wanted to highlight it since it showed how Envy killed her in Apoc's image. Speaking of being from Switch's point of view, I'm going to miss writing for her, as I am going to miss writing for Apoc; I know Switch and Trinity are fairly similar, but I think Switch has that added harshness and attitude that Trinity doesn't, making her a lot more fun. Apoc was just a nice, easy-going guy, so I was sorry to lose him since he didn't deserve it. As Edward said, "They didn't hinder our plans… they worked with us… helped us towards our goals… despite the risks… and they died for our cause!" a very apt tribute to them. Maybe you'd be right in saying, 'well, then why did you kill them then? You had the power to stop that!' but their deaths were part and parcel of the motivation and incentive Edward needed to act against Morpheus' orders and get him plugged into the Matrix. It all works towards the next chapter anyway.

Now, I want to say how sorry I am that it's taken so long for me to update this chapter, as my school diary will tell you, this chapter was meant to be up on October 15th! Really shows how long it was since I last updated (which was in September, if I remember right)! Well, I have been under the mounting pressure of coursework, an exam, and coursework deadlines, and much recently, I've been pretty ill in hospital, which has certainly put a crimper on plans, but it was enough for me to really get up off my butt and update (certainly, reminds me of September 2010 when I has appendicitis and was able to put up Chapter 4 because of it). It's why the song Hold On really corresponds with me right now; I'll also tell you why else it corresponds with me. I was ready to update this chapter a couple of weeks ago when I got myself a new memory stick, and moved everything onto it. I then, like an idiot, deleted everything off the old one, only for the new memory stick to get corrupted the very next day! All of my coursework, all old chapters and creative works were inaccessible. After some attempts, I was ready to call it quits, but I did remember an very good friend who's also a great whizz at IT programs and such. My own little operator was able to run a recover program on my computer just through Skype, and recover all of the deleted files from the old memory stick! Some of the files were corrupted, but, it seems, not all of my story files and coursework; most of it has been recovered (not sorted though). And, thanks to having done my English Language Investigation on The Clier Path (namely Chapter 21!) I was able to copy everything down from that and edit it as I went. I know many would hate computers after that, but if everything had been done on computer and the file with it all in had been stolen, then I would _never _get it back! It's nice to know that not everything about computers is a hindrance.

Right, now after the apologies, let's move on. I'd like to say that the old motto 'write what you know,' still rings true. For instance, the section where Victor gets run over by a car was written from experience. No, I didn't do this on purpose, but it did happen years ago while in secondary school. Thankfully, I was only clipped by it, and I was wearing my clarinet box on the side where I was hit, so I did take the brunt of the force, but I did have a triangle shaped bruise for weeks afterwards. The thoughts that went through Victor's head just afterwards remain the same as mine then as well. I knew I was still in the road, so my thought was to roll out to the curb to avoid getting squished, so I did. The driver had some right cheek though, a woman in her thirties was not sorry she'd hit me, more annoyed that she was going to miss picking up her kids, kind of the same as the 'You idiot! I have kids in the backseat!' woman, which actually relates more to another incident, but I'll leave that for another time.

Now, I also said that the completion of the arc would come to head in this chapter, but I'm afraid, that because of time constraints and chapter length, I won't be able to do that. This chapter is already getting as long as Chapter 20, and there would also have to be loads of other sections in order to keep up with the many different sub-plots to give the chapter the same impact needed. I'm sorry it's taking much longer than expected, but given that I'm in the last year of sixth form, there's little I can do to help that. I could before when in AS, but then, I shouldn't have been writing as much as I should, especially running up to revision for exams; I think that's why I had to take a re-sit this January (part of the reason it took so long). Saying that, I don't know when I'll be able to put up Chapter 22, but I do have some of the sections complete for that one already, which makes things easier on me in a way. They would just need editing, and then the rest would need writing up. Doesn't sound like a lot, but given the nature and the mish-mash of each sub-plot needed, it is. I won't be able to rightly gauge when the next chapter will be out as I'm also working towards a University place at Leeds Trinity (Trinity! Yay!). No doubt I'll still be writing this fiction whenever I get the chance, so I'm not letting this story go, not now that I've come up with some new concepts and storylines that can be comfortably brought into it. I'm excited to bring them to you; especially since I've found an elegant solution to what many Matrix fans had a problem with after the release of The Matrix Reloaded and The Matrix Revolutions. I'll leave it there for you to guess at; hopefully this chapter alone will keep you busy during the synapse between this chapter and Chapter 22's release. By the time September gets here, I should be working in my own little room, ready to bring you more chapters!

Now, I normally update on a Saturday, and saying that, I normally write an omake for you to enjoy, but I haven't got the time for that right now. Instead, since it's Valentine's day, I shall make today the update day and let it be a present to all who have carried on reading so far. Of course, to reciprocate the present, you may review this chapter so that I can guarantee the update of the next chapter. As you're all well aware by now, I can't update another chapter unless the latest one is reviewed, that's how I make sure there's still interest in it. Now, I'm sorry I couldn't write you all a special Valentine's omake, but I'm pretty sure The Clier Path will be running while next year as well, which should be a nice time in the plot where I can write one for you.

Thank you for reading thus far into the plot of The Clier Path, and I hope you're enjoying it so far as well. I hope you're having as much fun reading it as I am plotting and writing it for you. The efforts towards this series all go towards an original story that's in the works (writing wise anyway) so I can't wait to get those scripts written and those chapters drawn up (I should be drawing it all up myself) but this comes first. Your readership and reviews helps me towards that.

Thank you for your efforts as well as mine.

Ophelia Davis

~x~


	22. Awake And Alive Part 1

Author's Note: Hello! I know it's been a very long time since I've updated this fiction, but honestly, I have been working on this chapter! At first, it was going to be one chapter, but when I realised how much of the subplots needed to be caught up on, I had to resign myself to it being three parts. So, this is the first part of Awake and Alive, the third part of which will be the last of the Heart O' The City Hotel Arc. I hope you enjoy and once again, I'm very sorry that it's taken so long.

Disclaimer: The franchises of The Matrix and Fullmetal Alchemist do not belong to me, but belong to their respective creators.

"_You just keep pushing. You just keep pushing. I made every mistake that could be made. But I just kept pushing." _– Rene Descartes

The shadows of the fading darkness slipped smoothly across his frame with each gliding step he took. With his hands tucked humbly behind his back, his vision was centred on the task before him. With each footfall, the mottled darkness seemed to fall away, giving into the light that seeped only so far to the tunnel's edge and across the concrete walls. It graced the metal shine of his medals and the sheath of his sword, illuminating the deep blue of his uniform.

No sooner than he was out of the tunnel, at the edge of the concrete clearing that he found the source of the light, but he was neither intrigued nor blinded by its arrival. It was a muted affair, hardly hopeful, rarely homely; it was as he stepped further into the clearing that he knew the sensation would grow stronger, reeking of imminent chaos, and sitting deeply in its throne at the cavern's centre. Amongst the thick vein-like pipes that throbbed silently about the floor, that snaked towards the throne, thronged over its back amidst the larger pipes plugged into its back, he caught sight of the sullen strangles of golden hair, flowing past the man's shoulders, and a pale face, gaunt, but not weak.

The man in his throne looked deep concentration. His gaze never moved from the square board before him, the pieces in place, as though considering the next most advantageous move in a game of chess. He took smaller steps closer, and once within the throng of veins, he made to clear his throat, making his presence known. But should his father's concentration be broken…. But with each time he had done it before, there were no hard feelings, hardly a flicker of disturbance from his actions, insofar that it became a routine, business-like, comfortable in a sense, that his presence would never be denied.

In finding himself before his father's throne, he cleared his throat gruffly, and it was hardly a second before his father brought his gaze from the board, and onto him, as though by intention rather than obligation.

"You summoned me, Father?" His deep voice cut through the silence that once held the cavern in its dominion, a reigning condition that was desired of the place, but his father's face never changed.

"I did, Wrath." With broad hands, he gripped the arms of his throne, and as he bent forward, a snap resounded through the broken silence. As he stood, the back of his robes sagged, revealing three large plugs, set in scar-riddled skin that lines his spine; hidden again behind golden hair as he righted himself on his feet. In a guarded reverence, he turned then towards his son, faced him with a hitherto concealed agenda, but didn't step forward. "It has been six days since Envy was assigned to his mission, and he has yet to return. I must admit I'm… disappointed. It is one matter to identify a sacrifice, but quite another when one knows what they're looking for; for him to be taking so long over two human sacrifices… it's unsettling, to say the least."

Wrath gave a thoughtful glance, settling his mind to the task as he bowed his head, his eyes shut in a concentration comparable to his father's. Before long, he gave a humble nod, and opened his eyes again to face his elder, "If we were talking of humans other than our targets, then indeed he would be accused of slacking, but these aren't just _any _humans. They're alchemists of great renown; the Hero of Ishbal, and the youngest State Alchemist; Flame and Fullmetal." A small smile seemed to sneak up beneath his iron-black moustache, "it's quite possible he under-estimated them."

A rare flash of a smile crept onto his father's lips in return, "Indeed", but it soon vanished, it was business as usual, and it added to the strangely homely calm that the cavern provided, "then there's no time to waste. We shall move ahead with the next stage of our plans." He hardly paused in his thoughts, before he stepped to him more fully, a dignified entreaty, "I was prepared for this outcome. Lust, Gluttony and Sloth have their own roles to play, and Pride is unsuited to the task at hand, which is why I have summoned you here, Wrath."

Wrath hardly flickered in response to his name, and retained his obedient stance, "what do you desire of me?"

"There is much you are unaware of," he continued in his journey forwards, his eyes hardly removing from Wrath's gaze, "there is a world outside of this one that is beyond the comprehension of any mere human. Your men have been searching for Flame and Fullmetal, so far without success, as though they are… no longer with us."

A smirk played on the Fuhrer's lips, "So you've had Envy search among the dead?"

"No", and he stopped just before him, "they are in the world without, a world far different from our own, and it is here you will search for… a woman. She is unlike any human you will have encountered, she has eyes that can see beyond the world's chaotic illusions, far beyond the capabilities of your ultimate eye," he reached out then, placed it on the Fuhrer's shoulder; he hardly reacted to the new weight, his eyes focused on the man, "she will be skilfully guarded…. But…." Father moved his hand then to cradle Wrath's face, his palm placed over the patch of the Fuhrer's left eye.

Suddenly, his fingers dug into his flesh, and a bright throng of electricity erupted across, centred on the black of his eye patch. Wrath gripped his teeth as the whole of his head seemed to be swallowed up in the scarlet volts, but he made no move to either turn and run, or flinch; he retained his stalwart stance. As soon as it had begun, it was over as Father removed his hand and the brassy clouds of smoke began to clear from around him; he only blinked as the tie of his patch loosened, and it crumpled from his face.

"… Now not even _she _can allude your ultimate eye."

Taking a hand from his back, he made to touch his left eye, to lay a finger on his red iris, strangely shaped, like a tattoo; a serpent biting its own tail and surrounding a six-point star. But he could find nothing out of the ordinary.

"Don't worry, Wrath, I only made a slight modification to your eye." He said sternly, "Now, you'll be able to track her without the need for Gluttony's sense of smell, and you'll know her by sight. She'll be out of place with everything else, as I've said, she's unlike any human you've encountered."

"Where does the search begin?" He questioned, hardly fussed by the new adjustment of his sight.

"Good question," a smile crept onto his father's lips, "right here." He took a step then towards his throne, and from the sleeves of his robe, outstretched a hand towards its back, as though reaching for something. His long fingers seemed to grasp the air for some seconds, before something began to materialise, forming beneath his touch, and stretching out along the surface of air behind his arm. Slowly, as though by some portrayal of alchemy, a door seemed to ripple into being, wooden, white and embellished with a silver doorknob, beneath Father's grip. He pulled the door open, and it seemed to yawn wide, revealing a white expanse just behind it.

Even the Fuhrer's usually steely gazes were bested, widening as he stepped back from the new opening. In his slight retreat, he retrieved his patch from the floor, and placed it back on his face, tying it at the back.

"From here you will find more doors; your eye will lead you to the right door, and from there onto your target." He supplied simply; even the supernatural had become a matter of daily occurrence.

"How will my absence be accounted for?" The Fuhrer asked, recovering from his shock, but hardly removing his gaze from the glaring whiteness beyond the door.

"I have already alerted the Generals, you have been called on confidential business that requires the utmost discretion, and your people will be fed a different story."

"What the people are fed is none of my concern, Father. This is far more important."

His father's smile returned, "Then I have no doubt you will succeed, Wrath." But it soon faded to a commanding glare that not even a king of royal majesty could defy, "Now go and fulfil your purpose. I'm sure there's no need to remind you that she must be brought back _alive_."

"No need at all, Father," and he stepped forward then without hesitation, towards the door, but before he could enter he stopped himself short of the lip, his gaze focused on the whiteness. "What alias does the target go by?"

"She's known to many as the Oracle."

He stepped through then, and upon his retreat, as he sank with every step into the white expanse, the door forced itself shut behind him. From there, he sank further into the nothingness from which it had made its presence known, and opened many eyes before his.

-/\*_;)(-

The darkness still buzzed, vibrated before him in a way that crossed the borders of irritation, mingled now with the possibilities of hopelessness. It left him dangling between the loss of vision and the recognition of solid presences around him. There was nothing he could do to be rid of it, but slowly drift into a silence that began to recede, bringing him into a world full of sound, of pulsings that were still a long way off, but there.

He screwed his eyes up tight; let his lids fall open, only to find the buzzing pinpricks of black that supported the still-present darkness, and lingered, bringing to his attention more awareness, distant stings, feeling. It branched out through his arms, further down, fingers; he moved them, and the stings flared into a hot pain that throbbed from somewhere at his right… likely… his shoulder, around there at least. Another movement of fingers – the pain still persisted, coupled with warmth, wet and smooth. The awareness of the smell it brought marred his vision; a metallic tang that clogged at the back of his throat and wreaked of injury.

He tried to push thought to the forefront of his mind, only to find it blocked by the beeps that pulsed through the fine mosaics, growing closer, leaving a ripple that coursed through his vision, and a clash of sounds that soon followed suit. The sound grew more refined, then, a voice, deep, stinted in feeling, emotionless, halting with its monotonous tones. For all that could be felt of it, _cold _was thefirst thing that made itself known, the only word of thought that came to mind. It spiked across his skin, adding daggers that already prickled intensely, sharpening the pinpricks at his eyes, slowly wavering in and out of earshot.

'…. Like to… a revelation… I've had… my time…' He shut his eyes to perceive the words further, waiting for the gentle buzz that surrounded his vision to recede from their place of vigil. 'Came to me… I tried… classify your species.' His lids tightened at the sound, of muted taps that smoothly pounded into audible hearing, pushed through needles that sent harsher ripples towards the edge. It hovered there for several moments, before it sank down further into apparent colour and newly formed light that brought with it newly formed thoughts, now able to penetrate the weakening blackness.

_Ow… damn… did I black out just now?_

As the steps came to settle, closer than before, the ripples started to settle themselves, their waves growing smaller, still pushing away the black needles, until as he opened his eyes, he could make out the mahogany brown of a chair leg.

'Realised… you are not… mammals…'

_Now… what…? What is he talking about…?_

By the chair leg, he could make out the deep green sheen of trousers, seeming to hover there between, what he assumed, were a pair of legs, tightening themselves against the chair legs. For support, maybe…? But as he squinted, the legs seemed to push themselves against the wood, grounded themselves into it…. He recognised it then, wheedling out the pain that made the man's body shake, trying by degrees to stand it. He was trying to resist it, probably how he had been resisting it all this time.

'Every mammal… this planet… develops… natural equilibrium…' within a release of breath, the seemed to grow a volume, or rather, the entering of more words into the audibility of where he sat. With another breath, the disorientation seemed to slowly seep away, allowing for comprehension and the rest of the hovering needles to pass out of his vision, out of his peripheral. If his eyes were to scan the room at 360 degree angles, he wouldn't find them again, at least not for a long time now. That was the singular hope: that he wouldn't give in to the darkness again.

'But you humans do not.' His eyes trailed towards the sounds the voice made, and followed it up from the deep green tie to the thin lips that framed the words with an elocution that was legible. 'You move to an area and you multiply and multiply until every natural resource is consumed, and the only way you can… survive is to spread to another area.'

He leaned forward then, titled his head to follow the man's movements, for his eyes to lock onto dark shades before he lowered down to the lips, where they were before. Tie… shades… the coldness… an Agent, must be an Agent… but, different, isn't he? He tried to adjust himself, the back of his right shoulder grated across the wall. He recoiled suddenly, with eyes shut within a voluntary darkness, greeted a moan of pain as it rose from his throat.

'There is another organism on this planet that follows the same pattern. Do you know what it is?'

He gulped away the nausea of the pain, slicked his dry throat with saliva, and with some apprehension, let his eyes droop open so they could trail back to their original sight; hardly a beautiful horizon, but it took his breath away. A smile had settled onto those thin lips, sending a shiver of cold down his spine, his eyes wide, and he stared fixedly at the sudden change that related with him a sight of teeth, a wish to block them out, but no apparent wish to turn away either.

'A virus.'

_A… virus…? Disease…_

He turned slowly to face his right, his hands curled together as if in a fist that was fragmenting all too easily, there without trying, only because he could hold them in place. His fingers were smothered with blood. The pain throbbed with a heat that showed little sign of simmering down, red hot, like the blood that trickled freely down his shoulder, down his front, along the floor beside him.

_This is familiar…._

'Human beings are a disease, a cancer of this planet.'

_I've heard this before…._

'You are a plague. And we are… the cure.'

A sudden soft chuckle bounced from his throat, his eyes shut in a fit of mirth that seized his chest and sides; let him laugh easily despite the situation and the pain that the laughter aggravated. Maybe it was the blood loss, leaving him light-headed and dizzy of common sense, allowing him to expel all expression, despite the life threatening danger just some steps away.

'What is so funny?' A cold growl penetrated the darkness of his closed eyes, and he tried to seize a hold of the mirth that might follow on, but was unsuccessful.

"… Broken… record…" He snorted between sporadic breaths of laughter, his smile bright on his face, perked at the edges.

'What?' A steely threat more than askance, and he opened his eyes to face the icy glare that purveyed through his shades, but his smile didn't wane.

"You sound like… a broken record…" and he tried to force his lips into a straight line, hardly working to eradicate his lighter spirit. "You've mentioned this before," he sniffed, and cleared his throat, forced his voice into a slightly higher spiel, void of emotion, and managed to replicate a voice that was stiffer than leather, "You fight against the system that controls you, but in the end… it's all a worthless struggle…" he let go of the tug in his throat and the grin came back, "remember?"

A sudden force exploded in the back of his head as it hit the back of the wall, his grin vanished as quickly as it came with the yelp, "… seems you do…" he choked out.

Agent Smith was stood right before him, staring down before stepping back to let him gag from the shock and the rush of pain that coursed through his mind, his brain. Through a deep intake of breath, Agent Smith stared on towards the man in the seat… wait… Morpheus… isn't it? An unmistakeable hardening of his face took place, tugged at his brows, sending a wave of confusion through those other than the Agent, and stared now through newly awakened disorientation. It didn't let up as the Agent turned to face him again.

'Tell me, Colonel Roy Mustang, since you've been so… kind as to join us again, you can answer me this.' A quirk went through his mouth, tugged up at a corner akin to an animal growl in the midst of a threat, 'why, isn't, the serum… _working?_'

Between the haggard intake of breath and a new blur that entered his vision, Roy seized a hold of the sliding image of the Agent before him with narrowed eyes. He tried to grasp onto an answer as his own brain scrabbled about to grasp the control, that had just moments before been knocked out of it. He seemed to be taking too long with his answer.

_'Well?' _The Agent interjected between the swimming thoughts and a mind that scrabbled between readjustments. The blur of his vision then began to right itself; the gleam of the Agent's shades came through proper, illuminating a face that seemed to suddenly bend beneath the will of his growing hatred, but only for a moment. As he cleared his throat, the face flickered away, seemingly hidden now behind opportune moments of translucent vision, the cough righted himself of that one mistake, with the hopes that it wouldn't come to light.

The blur's exit gave way to graspable clarity, something his brain was thankful for as the internal workings of his wounded head were restoring themselves of the assault, ready now to face all manners of interrogation.

'I will only ask one more time: why, isn't-!'

"It's like I said," Roy heaved out through clenched teeth, taking advantage of the mental clarity while he still had a good hold of it, "The Sodium Thiopental may make it harder for him to fabricate a lie… but that doesn't mean you'll get the truth from him." The Agent before him cocked his brow, and Roy took it as his right to smirk, "or in this case… nothing at all. I told you, he's stronger than that."

Something caught in his peripheral vision, and the smirk slid away quickly as he beheld the sight. His vision latched onto the Agent's side, an arm hanging there, but not without tension. His hand had started to ball up into a fist, and for a split second, he flinched before it, squeezing his eyes shut in the hopes it might deaden the oncoming attack.

But, nothing; the Agent's fist continued to tighten up before him, the knuckles knotted up against the strains of the flesh white bones showing from beneath, but without an implication, a reaction to a threat or negative words.

It shook there in place, beneath its strains, holding in, holding back and seemingly convulsing beneath minute tremors of….

_He's… angry…? Since when did these Agents get… angry?_

-/\*_;)(-

_ If you take off in that ship, you'll come across unimaginable terror!_

The engine of the hovercraft hummed between each echoing thought, rocking it into existence as the hovercraft swerved. It was heading in the opposite direction, away from the oncoming attack, giving chase to the thick coil of sentinels that glided after them, like a spring that had been set loose upon them in a graceful line of mechanical cries and destruction.

_Your crew won't survive!_

The ship soared onwards with a rapidly growing determination, it couldn't give up its lead; the hovercraft glided along a great line of building walls that towered above them. But ahead, in the distance, a break had opened up before them, gave way to a distant glow that lingered between the great break and the grey-smogged clouds behind. Its muted sapphire held within it a memory, fading, but tangibly recognisable for the bringer of these thoughts, of a man pathetically crazed, but holding up his metal pipes high – a sorry excuse for a sign, but legible and with a sense of purpose.

_And if it's allowed to carry on, then neither will Zion!_

It was like a light and the end of the tunnel, and they were heading towards it, no matter how far it seemed to stretch out from their reach, no matter how long it would take for them to get there; to do what needed to be done, to save what lives they could if not their own…!

_Trust me! We all need our ships here in case it reaches us!_

The guns from their turrets lowered to meet the attack from the oncoming sentinels, now managing to catch up in the midst of their bid for escape and a hard-won freedom. The glowing sparks of ammunition and the pings they made did nothing to shake his thoughts away. Those sounds were in some far-off place, away from the core of the ship that he inhabited, where others around stared into that glowing light for some hope of deliverance… yes, hope….

_Otherwise, all hope is lost!_

A sentinel skated from another rain of ammunition, met the building side of a ragged cliff, but it wasn't long before the break in attack amounted into a better forefront of assault for the sentinels, coming in the form of outright retaliation. They neared as close as they dared before swerving away from the ammunition with a disgustingly graceful ease. The ship twisted from the cliff side, made for another alley that the surface would always reliably offer, and the rapid turn brought him right back to his own thoughts.

_That tunnelling machine… so… is that what you meant by unimaginable terror… Link? My crew… if it's allowed to carry on… then it'll reach us… Zion… Zion…!_

He drew in a sudden breath, forgetting he'd been holding it all this time, ever since the sentinels came spiralling towards them, ever since his order of desperation, dry from the lack of oxygen, but he drew in more.

'Zion…' he sucked in another breath, 'Zion has to be warned!'

'How?' Jue turned quickly to face him, still gripping the stabilizing pole at her side, glaring.

'Someone has to get to a drop point.'

'What?' the operator's voice rose to an incredulous tone, they all turned to face him, 'Are you crazy?! We can't broadcast now!'

'We have to!' Thaddeus growled.

_Before Zion… before all hope is lost!_

'I'll go.'

He raised his head, found himself meeting the words of Jue, a confirmation that couldn't be shaken of its determination. He wanted to cut down her offer, he was tempted to, but no matter how hard he tried, he knew it would be impossible, so he gulped it down.

'There isn't much time.' And with it he tried to bury the rising apprehension, lending her instead a softened gaze, hoping that the subtleties of his fear wouldn't float to the surface and into prominence.

'I'll make it.' Those firm words worked a miracle, beating back the fear, replacing it with an assurance that shone from her smile, glowing for him, resonating with the azure light just behind them.

_Your crew won't survive!_

He looked down at her gaze, his brow creased, as if searching for the oxygen he had lost out on before, the air that assured life, hope, that this wouldn't be the last time. The last time, and it brought a sudden tug of helplessness that tugged his gaze back, to dark eyes still glaring into him, waiting on a choice; a chance to prove that this wouldn't be the last time.

-/\*_;)(-

The next moments were a blur, fast-paced movements tracked within the register of a flickering glance, only to catch the reaches of an arm beneath the distortions of motion. Suddenly, a hot pain shot through his right thigh, he grasped it amidst his screams as blood gushed forth. He had become the tumbling puppet of a force that sent him falling over Mouse's body, with no way to catch his descent.

The Agent held his gun and glared with a merciless air of almost undecipherable emotion, his face cast in a steel mask of cold-hearted features.

His back remained pressed to the tiles, paralysed by the shock of pain and agonising throbs that coursed through, the feeling cemented by the warmth that bathed his hands, unable to contain the blood that welled on the floor beneath him.

But, no mercy, the Agent stepped forward with a slowness that befitted the status of any machine capable of such torture, capable of an accuracy that allowed his aim to adjust without the wobble or uncertainty of missing his target.

Even his lids were unable to contain the warmth that spilled from between them, more equivalent to salt water than the scarlet liquid that bore his oxygen, but even less so to the air that heaved in his chest; the whimpers that he was finding harder to contain beneath clenched teeth. As if everything was welling up, sensing the inevitable and making good their escape while they still could.

Blam! The Agent shot. More blood leaked forth. There was a ping, a sudden spark and the ricochet of a bullet from the fore-arm of his auto-mail. The leather tore from the bullet's impact, from the entry and rebound, dangling around his prosthetic. Between his still heaving breaths, the blood continued to leak in heavier spurts where nothing could hinder its flow, staining the tiles beneath. For those moments, he let a breath of relief play from the smirk that was spreading on his lips, his arm still up on guard.

_That… was too close…!_

The Agent stared down at his prey, supported by his left arm alone, with an air of puzzlement, but that rogue emotion was soon erased. A refocused glare of ice seeped from behind black shades, and with that, the gun was brought back into aim.

_Shit!_

Another shot, he sat up to meet it, his arm adjusted – the bullet hit the arm guard and the force sent him scrabbling back. But no rest, the Agent stepped on closer, shooting with each clack of tiles, altering his aim.

He swung his arm up; a bullet rebounded away from his head, then round to the side, from his chest. With each swing, with each arm spark, he flailed back. He grunted with each new force, feeling a dull punch that shuddered through to the core of his prosthetic where the electric pulse of nerves frayed with each attack. Still he kicked himself back, bringing his knee up, his stomach then guarded, his teeth bared against the scrape and throb of the wound that had been seared into his skin before he reminded himself that anything was better than another bullet in his flesh.

His back hit an obstacle; he swerved round, found the wood of the foyer desk. A shot, faced back again, and quickly dodged before the bullet embedded itself into the desk, splintering shards of wood, and his side hit the tiles.

Another shot, he brought his arm up; the bullet broke through the tile.

_Dammit, what do I-?_

He tried to reach for the holster at his side, but a shot rang out and he brought his arm up to meet the attack. He scrabbled quickly then round the side of the desk, heaving his leg behind him, for each of his urges of cooperation to be answered by a sharp spasm of pain, for his groans then to signal curses on the leg that refused to carry him forward.

The clack of footsteps halted behind him, he heard the chack of a gun with a new aim and carried himself on as shots shattered the tiles at his feet. He dragged himself round, rolled onto his back, pressed himself to the desk. He caught his breath as he reached for his holster, quickly drew out his gun with shaking hands.

There was a sudden rush of feet, running, the Agent coming towards him at great speed.

_Shit! I'm sorry!_

A rush of decision, a quick nod, he rose round onto his knees for wide eyes to behold the sight.

An angered scream of curses signalled behind the Agent, gun still cocked, as the swing of a chair brought him down to the floor. The gun flew from his hands as his head hit the tiles. The chair was sent sliding across to the side, leaving Mouse staring down at his grounded prize, his skin shining red from beneath the black of his mask, breathing heavy.

'Bastard!' Mouse screamed, 'Teach you to have authority over ME!'

"Mouse! Catch!" He threw the gun for him, and without hesitation, Mouse caught it. The Agent was killed with one shot, a convulsion from the force became the last of his movements from here on in.

'Told you I'd blow your fucking brains out!' He laughed, almost giddy.

"MOUSE!"

Mouse glared up at him with a momentary look of confusion as the mask lost the tautness of its face, all sense of humour and broken solemn ceremony disrupted.

"It's me, Clier!" and he dared himself to use the desk for support, brining himself to his feet before using the surface for stability as he limped round to the front of it.

Mouse's eyes widened from behind his eyes' holes with what he only hoped could be recognition, simultaneously answered by the reaching up and pulling off of his mask, revealing straggled hair, a brow shiny with sweat and a grin rising back on his face, unhampered, gleaming.

'Ed?' he laughed, 'when did you get here?'

The comment stopped Edward in his tracks, and he gripped the desk, stared down at the Agent's body as it suddenly began again to convulse uncontrollably, shaking and shrinking at his feet amidst the reawakened waves and pulses of before.

_So, he really didn't know who I was…_

"Wh-While you were unconscious." His eyes remained fixed on the body as the rifts continued to course through it; it dragged the hair from the scalp into longer locks, as blood coursed through the new strands of blonde and the body settled into pale, stony weakness, the kind that didn't grant recovery. He could only thank Mouse that he couldn't see her face, now pressed against the tiles, or the stiff image it might have taken amidst her death throes.

'Oh, ok.' Mouse let a chuckle escape and with a little struggle of coordination, he pushed the gun into his own holster. 'What are you doing here anyway? I thought you weren't allowed to plug in?'

Edward stole his gaze away from her form, bringing his focus onto the questioning look of Mouse's reddened eyes, "I'm not, but Roy, Morpheus and Neo are incapacitated." He ground out the last word with a bitter taste on his tongue, and watched as Mouse's features flickered to that of disbelief.

'You're kidding, right…?'

"No, but we – ah!" He gripped his leg at a deep shock of pain, and he found himself shrinking down to his butt.

'What's up?' Mouse stepped forward, tripped over the body at his feet, and banged his shoulder against the desk as he settled down beside Edward, no grasping his thigh.

"My leg…" he growled, and hissed as he pressed a hand to it, he loosened the strap of his holster, and "… that Agent shot me."

'I-I could run to that phone box, get some first aid from the Construct.' He pointed shakily in front of him, clearly uncertain of that direction.

Edward shook his head quickly, "Don't bother, the officers may be down outside, but there could be back-up and they could be there any minute." He shimmied the strap up his thigh, quickly moved his hand to press the main holster against the wound. "Besides, that doesn't matter right now," holding it in place, he pulled the collar of his jacket in his mouth, bit down on it hard.

Suddenly, he yanked the strap tight, locking it in place as a yelp ground out from between his teeth. The blood was starved of its flow in one swift move, under the strain of one strap. He drew in heavy, shaky breaths and gulped away the resulting pain that gripped his leg as he spat the saliva-sodden collar from out of his mouth, "what… matters… is that Morpheus, Roy and Neo are… in the palm of their hands… and I need to get up there while I can…."

'And Apoc and Switch…?'

"They're dead, but together… they at least have that much… but there's no more time to waste." He growled finally, "I have to get up to them," he breathed, and using the back of the desk, tried to pull himself up.

'Then let me help you.' He got up easily, and reached out a hand for Edward.

"No!"

Mouse's hand flinched at the bite of the words, as if it had been slapped aside.

"I-I mean, you've helped enough," Edward forced a smile on his lips, placed his feet solidly on the floor and forced his body to straighten up, "… just keep the police from interfering, that's the best thing you can do right now." He didn't know if Mouse could see the smile, but he hoped his voice would belie it.

'Right!' Mouse nodded firmly, and quickly fingered for his holster, 'but if you're going up to face the Smith guy, then take my gun.' He thrust the gun into Edward's chest.

"No," and he pushed it away, "I can get more upstairs, you'll need that more than me."

Mouse gave a forlorn nod, and Edward left the support of the desk; his steps were a little unsteady at first, but they soon fell into the fluent swing of a limp.

'Clier!'

He stopped on the call of Mouse's voice, and turned to face him.

'Just be careful up there! If they really killed Switch and Apoc, they could kill you too!'

"Right!" Edward nodded, grinned, but as he turned towards the doors to the staircase, it fells from his lips, replaced with a fierce determination.

_Don't worry, I'm on my way!_

He pushed through the double doors, and the swing of them flapping shut beckoned to his retreating back, forced him on his way, beseeching him never to look back onto the momentary past.

-/\*_;)(-

The sentinels still flew forward, raining on the rear of the ship, driving on despite the sparking stars of ammunition that pinged against their shells. It wouldn't keep them away for long, but still the ammunition rained into them with the blazing grit of a storm at full pelt, battering into the horizon and all those obstructing its way. Those lucky enough to escape its range could afford to skate around the ammunition and wait on the opportunity of a break in the rounds.

They had already rushed deeper into the core of their ship, down into the top deck where seats and monitors were waiting for them, where certainly Jue was lying back into a head-rest as Thaddeus strove for a monitor beside it. He quickly entered in the coordinates, the instructions needed to carry Jue towards their goal. But as he raised his hand to cooperate, the goal was momentarily gripped back, and he faced down to find the warmness of her hand wrapped around his.

'You know,' she almost smiled, but let a peak of jovial pitch envelope her voice and face in an almost envious composure, 'I peeked.'

'Hm,' he chuckled softly, knowingly, 'so did I.'

He brought his head down to hers, and with the press of lips they each greeted a hold of warmth that flooded between them, closing all gaps, coursed through them, filled them completely. Together, but only for a moment; their union was almost fleeting as he drew them away, and softness of lips, and the love they gave, were soon deserted.

'Goodbye, Thaddeus.' Her head gave a tilt with the perk of lips and the knitting of brows.

His voice lowered into a softened hush, returning it, 'Goodbye, Jue.' His hand returned to its encumbered goal and grabbed for the jack hanging beside and between them. But he was hindered again as a rush of thought brought his movements to a halt.

_Your crew won't survive!_

He shook it away, quickly ridding himself of it, and he returned to his duty. Reaching around her, he pressed the tip of the jack to the rim of the plug, and slowly, with a growing confidence in trajectory, slotted it in, let his own thoughts intrude freely.

_No, you'll survive, Jue, I know it!_

The tip met the core of her mind. Her eyes grew wide from its sudden throbs, her body arched forward before settling, sending the whole of her view veering towards a world beyond the metal shell that their hovercraft offered: a protection that couldn't simultaneously be offered outside of the walls, outside with the sentinels.

His face hardened then with a growing confidence, with a determination that had been flagging before, but it soon caught up to Jue's at a hurtling speed, one that would match the speed of their ship, still racing against the sentinels that had yet to give up the chase. But they would never give up yet. Not while they had this chance, this hope.

'Fly, baby, FLY!'

-/\*_;)(-

A force coming his way; he couldn't dodge, he wouldn't. The harsh cries of its owner, the impending agony, wrapped up in a cacophony of hurt, barrelled into him. His face felt alight with pain, numbed only by the blood that welled and spattered from his mouth, but it did nothing to ease his balance as he staggered back. Halted by a knee to the stomach, his feet left the ground, all breath left his body in the simple expelling of blood and the grunt of pain at its climax. It would've been simpler to hit back, to kick out with equal force, if not more, but he couldn't, he wouldn't.

A twist of her body, her foot wrapped around his neck, sent him falling to the floor. His face scraped against the boards before a final halt in movement, this time unaffected by another's strength. A new grip of his shirt front, and he was pulled up. He could've resisted, twisted her arm and forced her into submission if that's what it took to end the fire that she had ignited in his body; but he couldn't, he wouldn't.

'Ah!' Not his, not when her fist met with his face. Harsh cries, strangled from within, by some welling frustration, or something more than that. 'Ah!' Again, not his own as his face was knocked the other way. 'AH!' his eyes were struck wide with the agony, not just from the fire. He could feel the blood escape, tainting the ivory softness that her skin was fast losing, that his pain was taking away. 'AH!' No longer held stationary, thrown to the side as she released his shirt, and he felt the force of the boards once again.

He screwed his eyes shut, could hear the steps staggering further away; the thud and creak as the boards were joined by another weight. Her gasps of breath filled the air between them, moans teased from her mouth, the loss of strength? He couldn't be sure until… his eyes slid open, her face was twisted up in a maddened glare, straight for him. His eyes grew wider at the sight, the strength that permeated through each knock of her fist, through her cries, the pain that resulted… she really meant it, no, _means _it.

She crept forward then, her breaths heaving, and that glare remained. She'd do it again.

His eyes slid shut once again, the fire remained, the glare that still bore into him kept it lit, fanned the flames in his chest. The heat rose in his face and he screwed them shut, trying to bear it.

He felt a softness at his chin, it soothed the heat, the touch caressing at both sides. A release of breath he didn't realise he was holding, seeping out in sporadic whimpers he'd never known himself capable of, moulding into her breaths, now much closer, the creak of floorboards that greeted her arrival were lost on him in those moments before. Then, a sudden bite of her fingers as he was seized, his face pulled up to hers. All that softness was gone within that strain, the bite of her nails cut deeper, and with each new breath, tears escaped from the corners of his eyes as the heat engulfed him completely.

A gasp caught in her throat, but enough for her to swallow back. He screwed her eyes shut, forcing away the gape that was forming on her face, a feeling that made her stomach twist up; it didn't sit right. To see him… it definitely wasn't right. When _was _the last time he…? She forced the questions from her mind, squeezed his chin tighter, he hissed between bared teeth, she resumed her glare.

'Why won't you fight me, Neo?' She growled amidst his whimpers, amidst the slow roll of tears, still making their steep journey over the swell of his cheeks. His gaze was hidden behind closed lids and a knitted brow. 'Don't I amount to much anymore? Is that why?'

'No…' He seethed from the lingering bites, and his gaze hardened beneath the sliding open lids, 'it's because you're worth… so much… that I won't fight you….' But his gaze seemed to lose its edge as her face purveyed a frown, caused by his words.

'Liar,' She scowled, and a poison was added to those bites, 'stop feeding me that crap!' and with a swift left fist she struck him across the face; with a yelp his cheek hit the boards, and he shook against the pain that flared there. The tears continued to roll from the sporadic hiccups of his chest. 'Does it hurt?' There was a rawness in her voice, purveying a dry croak that grated the air and against his senses, 'Knowing what you've done to me? Is the guilt finally catching up to you?'

His fists tightened against the boards, against the whimpers he was letting slip; he was showing weakness when he should've been on his feet, ready to take another blow, ready to guard and give as good as he got. But he couldn't bring himself to do it, not to her… she didn't deserve that. For her to beat him though…? She had every right to.

His chin was seized again, thrust up to meet her in a well of anger, seeping from a reddened face and the glare of her blue eyes, 'Well?!'

He screwed his eyes against the grate of her voice, but opened them slightly; a direct question he couldn't shake away, not now, 'I only… feel guilty for leaving you with that monster… and that Agent.' He gulped as the anger failed to dissipate from her face, 'but… I've done nothing wrong…' and he fell prey to gravity again, the bite of splinters as he was once more dropped to the boards.

'Yes,' she gave a soft sigh, 'you _did _do nothing.' Grabbing her knees for stability, she forced balance beneath her, and brought herself onto her feet. The unequal step of feet and the withdrawing creak of the floorboards brought his eyes open and his gaze to meet her form, hugging her stomach, her head low and her body hunched over. His focus skimmed her up and down, and beneath the creases, scuffed dirt and blood stains on her shirt he caught a glimpse of purple. Bruises, he was sure of that, blotching the ivory of her skin, like poison, infecting her, affecting her every move and decision. Her legs rolled into the fluent hobble of a limp, straining to keep their balance, and at her ankles, the thick red imprints of rope were clear and in view, as if they'd been strangled, as if all proceedings of a hanging were to be held upside down, and death then was to be torturously slow.

_She must've been tied up for all of those three days, it must be hard walking, and yet… she can still fight me, she'll still use all her strength, she must be exhausted… she must really mean it…_

Stood there, with her back to him, arms still hugged around her body, a small voice peeped, and only just reached his ears, 'You didn't do anything, Neo.' But it didn't sound like her anger – that itself had seemed to wane. Instead, of all its harshness and grate had been lost, 'You just laid there, and let them take me,' and the sporadic hiss of a released breath remained, 'for all the strength I know you have, for all the power I know you're capable of… you didn't use any of it for me.' Her voice curled into a strangled whimper, she tried to choke it back, but escape was inevitable, too easy, 'I know you're better than that, I know you have the potential to save humanity, that's why I always believed in you, had such faith in what you can do. I also… believed you _loved _me,' her body shook beneath the weight of her own words, 'and… dammit Neo, I've tried to hold onto that…! …But if the saviour of humanity can't even save _one person_, then-!'

She whizzed round to face him, saw him cowering there at the other side of the room. A stroke of fear crossed his face as anger burst onto hers, but momentary rage gave in to the weight of what had sooner been an established calm, '… then there's no point in having faith when it can be so easily dashed….' A soft smile curled round her lips, 'Or maybe… you _are _the One you've always been, but… just not the One for me….' Her brow began to knit, to try in all attempts to lift that weight away, but no such luck.

Neo shook his head furiously, propping himself up on his hands, 'No, don't stop believing, Trin, please!' He heaved in breaths as all the frustration began to well, 'I didn't save you before, I know that, and thinking back, I don't know why! But that's why I'm here now! I came here by choice, because I love you, because it hurts!' he stared into her eyes, willed her not to turn away, 'It hurt just knowing that they had you! It hurt just knowing you were there; scared, alone, so much so I couldn't stand it, Trin! I wanted to rescue you sooner, I really did, but-!' in the huffs of breath that followed, his conviction started to flag, 'the deal had to be abided by… but only because I believed, if there was any chance I could have you back safely, without any risk to you… then I would take it.'

'You had to stick to the rules.' She managed to ground out as a wet film clouded her eyes, purveyed a damp gleam in the cordial light of the lamp that overhung them, 'Just like before, in the simulation… but they shouldn't matter, Neo!' She seethed. 'If there's someone you love, then rules shouldn't matter! But then… I don't matter, do I?'

'That's not true.' He frowned, his face hardened, flagging only beneath the quiver of a pouting lip.

'And you would know all about that, wouldn't you?' She growled, her aggression returning, 'You haven't exactly been truthful as of late.' She stepped closer towards him, the creak of floorboards made that fact known, 'Even now, you're lying to my face. And that hurts,' she nodded, 'knowing that the only thing coming out of your mouth…' she inhaled deep heavy breaths, 'is complete, and utter, _bullshit_!' she hissed from between bared teeth.

He could only stare at her, eyes struck wide, before finally she let go of the tug at her brow, resuming some composure.

'You know,' she let out a sigh, 'I'm _glad _I was kidnapped,' she stepped on closer, 'because for all their intentions, they gave me a chance to open my eyes.' That smile returned, soft, believing in a conviction, but it held no comfort for him. It was a conviction that had replaced all former beliefs, 'I still can't believe I didn't see it before, it's such simple math.'

A giddy laugh escaped her lips, bounced from her throat as she covered her eyes, left Neo gaping.

'One equals One, Neo.'

'…What?' He uttered.

'Even now, you're lying to me.' She frowned, 'Why can't you just admit it? I already know the truth.'

'What are you talking about, Trin?' His eyes scanned her up and down, looking for evidence, for answers, 'What truth?'

'The _truth_!' She spat angrily, 'You bastard! Why do I have to spell it out for you?! You couldn't save me, because you wouldn't ! you saw I'd been captured, and did nothing, because it would be convenient if I was taken! So you could carry on, with no one stopping you!'

'Stopping me from _what_?!' Neo shouted.

'Do the math, Neo! One equals One!' She screamed, 'You've been having an affair with Edward!'

Neo gaped at her, completely taken aback by her accusation – with each degree of silence, his face began to twist up, not just with disbelief, but also with disgust. 'I don't know what that monster has done to you…' he began slowly, 'to make you believe that, but…' his face seemed to drain into an ashen pale, his mouth continued to gape, as if ready to wretch, 'that's a lie! I would never-! How could you believe I would-! ' His stomach rolled with the thought.

'I believe because it's the truth, Neo!' She shouted, closing in, 'Now! No more lies! Have you or have you not been having an affair with Edward?'

'I haven't!'

'Liar! Have you or have you not been having an affair with Edward?!'

'NO!'

'Dammit, Neo!' She screamed, 'If you really love me, you'll tell me the truth! DID YOU HAVE AN AFFAIR WITH EDWARD?!'

-/\*_;)(-

The glass could hardly hold the refractions of a cityscape, endowed in the heavy clouds of the storm that peered from above everything, before it was shattered from an unseen attack. It shards cascaded from its frame amongst the heavy fall of rain, a shimmering offering given freely by the storm. It became a curtain for the penetrator, arms spread as it greeted the freezing air and the sharp stabs of water from above. The gravity quickly took a hold, sending the body soaring into a steep dive that couldn't be interrupted. It fell into a roll through the air, a dart feathered in the colours that flagged its choice.

Her feet made impact with the black rubber roofing, bringing safety from the rain to the building that adjoined her place of entrance. Her landing was marked by the embedded shards, but hardly a danger for her as the force of her landing sent her rolling forward. She landed into a crouch and raised her head to meet the oncoming challenge below. She would meet it, for all the hopes that had been laid on her shoulders; she would bring all to fruition, or die in the process.

-/\*_;)(-

Each ascending step was slow. Each height gained was made in small degrees, with heaving breath and wobbly legs taking him up to the second floor, his brow drenched in sweat. He was just some steps away from the top before his left side hit the wall for stability. His right hand prosthetic grasped the clinched tightness of the thigh holster that kept the wound in his leg from spilling more blood. As if he hadn't already lost enough.

His brow drew down in a mark of exhaustion and frustration as his breathing began to squeak in wheezes.

_Damn… this is taking too long…._

He couldn't keep his legs from shaking. He grasped his wound tighter, for the pain to keep him focused, to stop his knees from buckling beneath him.

_For all I know… they could all be dead by now…._

Eyes screwed shut. He forced himself to take another step, wiped away the sweat that drew lines down his jaw, rubbed away the sweat-slogged strands of his blond bangs. His right foot settled on the next step, pain coursed up his leg and he clenched his jaw to keep all vocal demonstrations at bay.

_No, I have to keep moving… they're depending on me!_

Left foot over right, he missed the next step, tripped on the ascent and all balance was lost as he slammed down onto the second floor. His fists clenched up, shook as the heat grew in his chest.

_Dammit! I'm supposed to be the One…! But I'm weak…! How can they expect… I'm only human!_

His fists clenched tighter still as the heat in his chest rose to his cheeks. It was all he could do to suppress the dampness growing there, the water that shimmered at the surface of his eyes, turning them into reddening flood banks – not every wall can hold them back. Neither could he hold back the voices that reverberated in his mind.

_The Matrix exists… to keep us humans under control…_

_ People die every day fighting against the machines, but it doesn't mean that everyone should stop._

_ When you're a redpill, your body is yours again; it's the one thing those machines can't take from you, not without killing you anyway._

_ We just have to cut our losses and move on; otherwise we'll never win against them._

Suddenly, he slammed the side of his fist against the floor, forced himself onto his knees with ragged breaths and summoning strength.

_That's right… it doesn't matter if I die here, or if I give up… the whole of the Resistance isn't going to stop… just because I can't pick up the slack….it doesn't matter whether I'm the One or not… I have to keep fighting…! While I still have my body… while I still have the freedom to do so… I have to keep on fighting…!_

He grabbed hold of the banister just beside him, and gripped it tightly. He started to hoist himself up, bringing his feet beneath him, though his legs felt like lead. Though the blood still leaked from beneath the strains of the holster, with one last pull, he was able to regain his balance, and quickly, he grabbed a hold of the wall before he could lose it again.

_I'm going to die anyway… so I've got to make it count…!_

Keeping the wall at his side, he staggered towards the double doors of the second floor with sure feet and pushed through the double doors to the hall ahead.

-/\*_;)(-

With the ease of her strength, she jumped into a simple tuck-and-roll, across the synapse of two buildings, her arms outstretched to meet the bars of an apartment fire-escape. Gravity sent her knees bending, but the springiness of her knees sent her body twisting round and facing out from her metal perch, and down towards the imposing work of structural power below. She was hardly fazed by the heavy showers from above.

A power grid, kept practically afloat by the support of the buildings that surrounded it, buzzed with the electricity that skated through each wire, awaiting anything foolhardy enough to try and dodge its electrical tremors. Amongst the rain, the grid was nothing more than an open circuit; should anything bridge the gap, the electricity would flow, all cells would fry, and that living thing would meet death, stiff upon impact.

But that was hardly flowing through her thoughts as she closed her eyes.

_All I need is my blindfold. _

She jumped up and out. Her body soared and curled into a backwards flip, like an upending paper plane. But despite her own strength, it was gravity that brought her darting through between the first rails of the grid, like an arrow ready to meet the drop below. The buzz of electricity grew around, deafening with the extraction of sight, one wrong move and she would-!

She caught hold of a rail, and was swung from her path. She folded up neatly and rolled through the air, between the bars and buzzes. The sounds of pattering rain reverberated around her, pattered off the metal in tiny dull thuds. One source of it was right in front of her. Her body unfurled to meet it, and the new shape of the bar sent her swinging to the left, flipping between the bars. Only the skimming air of her passing would alert others to her presence, but compared to the rain and the surges of electricity, she was only a passing silence.

She caught hold of another bar. The force sent her twisting up, her arms folded in front, and her body was flung over a grid, and falling down again, tumbling like a marionette. The dull metallic ring, just below – her arms bent to meet the impact, now supported in a hand-stand on the bar. The rain continued to beat down on the grid, the electricity buzzed in agitation, but the feeling wasn't mutual. With legs spread for further support, she found herself balanced in a self-delivered darkness, calm and at peace.

Then she tipped forward, away from the rail, and darting towards the bottom. All around, the reverberation of electricity, of the rain's angry thuds; the buzzes grew in volume, and she folded up as she continued in her descent. Her body spread, and grabbing her ankles, she folded in a different away, bending backwards, her head towards the rain's source. But not for long – her body twisted round, weighted like loaded die, always sure to land on her feet, and all the force of it thrummed out from her concrete landing. Energy waves surged from her spot, as if the concrete bent with the force, and that was caught in its radius was sent into momentary disarray. Proof of her freedom, as the metal clatter of waste bins announced her arrival.

-/\*_;)(-

The door burst open beside them. As they raised their heads, the rush of footsteps brought them down from their chaotic clashes of rage and defiance. The figure collapsed on top of Neo with the loud, beseeching cries of his name that rang around the room.

'Edward…?' Neo could only stare on in bewilderment as a flurry of golden blond hair buried into his neck. But what Trinity saw was a confirmation presented in human form, and it sent her into a slow retreat, she fell back towards the figure's entrance. It was a sight that she hoped would stay locked away, almost preserved in the ephemeral glances of her nightmares. But even the illusionary existence of the Matrix was capable of an essence of reality, and it stared her blankly in the face. She couldn't tear her eyes away in the midst of her retreat.

The teenager's arms were clamped around his neck, with little regard for Neo's struggle to sit himself up, as if the extra weight would send him toppling back. His tentative grip on Edward's thighs were meant as a means for pushing him back, to keep himself from being straddled, but Edward was reluctant to let go, forcing his body further into the touch.

She couldn't turn away from their sprawled bodies. The shock that coursed through her body sent her further back, and for moments after, it seemed as though nothing could displace the look of horror that was reigning clear on her face. Nothing could dry the tears that welled in her eyes.

_So… it's true… it really is… oh god!_

The tears fell slowly, coursed over the brink of her lids, but Neo could hardly glance her way, still reeling in the depths of his confusion. All she could see was the willing ignorance of her position. Her tears dwindled into insignificance as Edward's voice drowned them out.

"Oh- Neo! I was so worried!" Neo's confusion began to dissipate, drawing in on itself towards the rising heat encased in his chest. "I'm so glad you're-!" With new strength, he grasped his shoulders, this time able to force him back. It seemed more like Neo's angered glare, than the power of his grip, was holding him in place, keeping Edward from clamping himself back around Neo's neck.

'What are you doing here?!' Neo seethed from between bared teeth. 'Morpheus forbade you from entering the Matrix! So why-?!'

Edward seemed to shrivel up from beneath the pressing weight of his words, and the glowing confidence he once emitted lost all its flow, dwelling now within the confines of a reddening face.

"Morpheus and Roy, th-they were captured by the Agents, a-and now Switch and Apoc, th-they were killed by Envy! I-I got scared! I mean, that monster's still around somewhere, I had to do something! I had to make sure you were still alive! I was so worried!" He descended then into a sporadic hic of tears, trembled in Neo's lap. Neo stared with widened eyes, not at him, but through him, as though the trembling heap were only a hallucination, and he somehow knew that. "I'm just so glad you're ok." His tear-sodden eyes met Neo's, encumbered in a paling face, and though they welled, he managed to smile, "you know, when I jacked in, the only thought that crossed my mind," with a shaking apprehension, his slid his hand onto Neo's cheek, caressed it softly with a more confident fervour as the contact was made, "was that I might never get to… _kiss _you again."

'You bastard!' Suddenly, he was shoved back from his lap, hit the floorboards beneath. There was no time to regain composure as Neo flung himself on top of Edward, gripped his arms; the man was towered above him in a snarling rage that any supplanted any control the other might've had before. Edward could only cry for mercy, writhe beneath his vice-like grip with streams of tears.

Trinity flinched a little as the horror began to seep away, her head shaking as her features twisted, 'N-Neo, what are you-?!'

'He's in disguise, Trin!' He struggled against Edward's violent thrashes, 'This isn't Edward! It's Envy!'

'Why should I believe you?!' Her face soon moulded back to looks of disgust that fuelled her retort, simultaneously diluted within Edward's twisting grunts, 'He's the only one here telling the truth!'

Edward bucked and thrust beneath Neo's grip, but was quickly pushed back down. His back slapped the boards again, and as the deep heaves of his struggle claimed his chest, his burning need for freedom began to waver, flickered and faded until Neo could loosen his grip on him. Neo stared up then into Trinity's widening eyes, took in deep breaths as he felt his own anger flag.

'Because Trin, the _real _Edward doesn't love me.'

Trinity stared into him, gave a puzzled tilt, 'but… I thought-?'

'He never did.' His gaze hardened against her expressed defiance, 'Trinity,' he began slowly, 'there has been something going on, and I don't blame you for being suspicious, I should've told you about it sooner.' His gaze drew down out of hers, but with a looser grip on his captive, he brought his focus back on her, ignored the reawakened wriggles beneath. 'But you have to understand, he _asked_ me to, I had to keep it a secret.' The hardness of his gaze settled away as he struggled to find his words, 'he asked me especially not to go around telling anyone, but given the circumstances… I hope he'll forgive me….'

'Just spit it out, Neo.' Her features lowered into a frown.

'I know this will sound like a lie, but it's the truth, so please believe me,' he drew in deep intakes of breath, as if his life depended on it, 'Edward… _is _gay, but it's _not _me he loves, it's-!'

The metallic tangs of blood filled his mouth before more words could be formed, their absence filled instead with crunches of flesh. The splatters of blood gushed forth spilled across the boards against his captive. Trinity looked stricken, her hands shook as she cupped her mouth, and all balance was lost to her descent as she struck the wall behind, and sunk down to her butt. He bared his teeth in askance, against the pain that roared in his chest. She could hardly respond, and slowly he stared down at the source of his newfound agony.

"Oh… god…." Edward gurgled in a slow, slurring moan, his eyes rolled within a painted face. The scarlet of the blood gushed down his right arm, down his sleeve, into the joints of his metal prosthetic. He thrust his arm in further with a tighter grip that elicited grunts from Neo, and low feminine moans from Edward, _"I love it when you let me penetrate!"_

Amidst the fog of darkness, he could see it clearly, the hand that was buried beneath his flesh where the monster had seized his opportunity, had seized his heart. His lungs burned with the loss of air, his body shook beneath the torrents of anguish he could hardly vocalise. He could only express it with his eyes, with the last fluid he had left to spill.

'Trin….' His ribs broke beneath the hold, and the last yelps of pain left his lips as the hand was yanked free. His body sagged, free of its anchoring point, but was shoved away with disregard, and he collapsed onto his back. Then, all motion settled, only his blood had the right to sentience as it gushed from his chest, formed a shallow pool; his chest formed the source waters, with nothing to hinder it, not even his heart, stolen beyond redemption.

'NEO!' Trinity screamed, and she scrambled forward on shaking legs, tears poured down her face, 'YOU BAST-!' her twisted rage was caught with the back of his auto-mail, and she was sent sprawling across the floor. She trembled from the pain shooting through her cheek, the new revelry of tears that joined the pool; a final testament to what was their union.

"YOU BITCH!" Edward screamed hoarsely around the grin forming from his lips, happily taking in the taste of his victim's blood, "don't act like you care just 'cause he's dead! For what he did to you, it's the _least _he deserves!" She cowered beneath his glare, stared back because his presence demanded it, because he clutched beneath his fingers the last of Neo's life, or at least, what had kept it going for so long. "Or maybe, it's because you're jealous." His speech curled into a lilt as he closed the gap between them, stared her dead in the face, "Because I didn't give you the chance to do it yourself, am I right?"

The new awakenings of tears shook her; deep into the core of her being, where once there was balance there began a tumult of chaos that supplanted and drowned the peace she once knew. Now, after so long of finding no fear in the illusion, she could only blunder through it. He, who once assured her courage, could only stare back in emptiness, without feeling, emotion… life. With each tremble that seized her hand, the last of her courage brought it closer to his, chilled beneath its ashen pallor against the scarlet pool, and she clasped it tightly.

'N-Neo…' her voice quivered, 'please… you can't die… I love you… please… don't be-!' her hand was suddenly kicked free of his, and she was grasped by the collar of her shirt, hauled up to her feet.

"Don't start regretting it now!" He started, "He's dead, Trinity, and your problems are finally over!" the laugh bounced free from his throat, into the escape of the air. "But look at that," He gripped her chin, twisted her face to suffer the fatal image of his, the cool blue, a representation of the choice he turned down with a single word, but inevitably settled in his lips, as it did for everyone with an unfortunate fate. His grin widened as Edward too took in the sight, committed it to memory with a glint of pleasure, "I'm still here," and he turned her back to face him, "and the offer's still open, so what do you say, hm? Fancy working for me?"

Her eyes caught one last glance of the lifeless corpse, but she was drawn back to the living, monstrous or otherwise, where she found the fool's gold of his eyes, imitations of the real thing. She gulped before letting a heavy breath escape. How could she even consider this a choice? Whether it had been presented to her or not, there was no doubt in her mind of what she had to do.

-/\*_;)(-

The mechanical force of the sentinels continued to swarm in around the ship, tentacles raised and claws bared through the tension of the race, the anticipation of piercing the metallic shell of their prey, ready to sink into the fleshy inhabitants within. But the turrets were yet to run out of ammunition, still sent their lethal sparks raining on the swarm, and cut away the anticipation of one sentinel, limb for limb, before it toppled from its place in the lead, from the air and hurtling into others behind.

The siren rang out around them, the operator's radar shined in a blue holographic glow amidst the darkness of the cockpit, adorned with the thousands of red-luminous bodies of sentinels that closed in on the top of their ship, their sanctuary; an image, but a representation of the real thing. Four-pronged claws grasped the hovercraft's metallic shell, along with many others, but as the pinging of ammunition sent some toppling from the keel, they soon scattered from the bullets of the central turret. They set their blood-red sights onto the rear of the hull, black-ridged tentacles stretched with far-reaching ease towards their target.

One reached the back of the rear turret, aimed towards the misted expanse that the hovercraft was leaving behind, and it wasn't long before sparks of impending destruction skittered across the floor of the turret's chamber. A scarlet laser furthered the damage, leaving only time for its owner to anticipate their arrival in a momentary pause of attack, to curse under their breath. But still, for them to fire more bullets towards the sentinels that had flagged behind in the chase.

Each sentinel body, minute in comparison to their target, left the top, swarming now for the side of the ship, encompassing it and crowding the electric blue pads of the hovercraft, giving it power, giving it flight. The radar told the operator as much, and with a disdainful growl, sent the ship grinding into a towering cliff side. Sentinels were ground into the rock and dirt, but the hover pads were lost to them, as was a side turret, and the life that kept it working, defended its ship and captain. But more still swarmed, reached towards the ship's underbelly, further towards the centre, towards the core, where the operator and the captain were still waiting, hoping.

-/\*_;)(-

The air was taken captive by that single, monotonous beep, ushering in a change in the path of destiny, the truth of a reality, and the ending of another's. The event could only be observed with the solemnity it deserved, but there were still those who refused to let go of that reality, or take in the flashing red of a screen by the side of the unexpected dead.

'DAMMIT Neo!'

Dozer could only look on from behind the monitor as the light of his eyes was swallowed up in an overcast darkness that stole his voice away, as Tank leaned over the dead man's body. Tank's hands were latched together in a fist, pressed down into blood-saturated flannel with violent thrusts, where the blood still leaked and consumed the blue, from where the pool beneath could find its source. With each forceful pump on his chest, the flesh would only comply for so long as each squelch and crack elicited the warning that his chest would give away and cave in. But Tank carried on with a fierce abandon, each thrust getting stronger.

'DAMMIT DON'T YOU DIE ON ME!' Tears raged down his cheeks, his teeth bared behind the shower and the blood that splattered his face. 'NOT NOW!' His grunts of effort joined the beeps, he thrust down with such a force, at such a speed that the body seemed to fall into spasms of oxygen deprivation, of which it would never recover.

'NEO! YOU CAN'T-! I WON'T LET YOU!'

Dozer stepped forward, his body withstood whatever fold of panic might engulf him, and with a radiated calm, his laid his hand on tank's shoulder, but still he continued. He laid both hands on his shoulder this time, and with a gentle tug, brought himself to Tank's ear.

'It's over, Tank. Let 'im go.'

Tank turned around the face him sharply; his whole body seemed to heave for breath, as though doing so for the dead. His face was twisted with violent intentions, but on recognising Dozer, his eyes widened. It seemed to dawn on him, even more so as he gazed into the darkness of Dozer's eyes, lent confirmation, and gave proof to what he moments before refused to believe. He was dead, Neo was dead, and there was nothing they could do.

He twisted back round suddenly, and brought his fist down on the corpse, 'DAMMIT!' for him to taste a bitter defeat that would linger, reverberate, not just for him. But, for all that would suffer because of it, the sobs that followed belied that truth, and his chest sank into sporadic heaves. 'This can't be the end…' he heaved between his tears, 'Zion… is not meant to fall this way….'

'Zion won't fall, not while _we're _still standin'.' Dozer's hand rubbed Tank's back in comfort, a smile trailing on his lips.

'But Neo… he's meant to be…' he gritted his teeth as each hiccup of breath seethed from between them, 'He's the One! He's not meant to _die_!' He shouted, slapping away the calming touch of Dozer's hand.

Dozer's face fell into a frown, 'No matter what you do, victory can't come without sacrifice.'

'But Neo can't be the sacrifice!' Tank screamed in retaliation, backing away from him, 'Switch and Apoc! _Their _deaths I can understand! They're only Redpills like-!' A thought seemed to have caught him be the throat, choked away the rest of his words, and the anger seeped away.

'Tank…?' Dozer asked, stepped closer through the undying beep that bridged the gap between them, which spoke of the past and told them it still applied to the present as much as it ever did.

He gulped then as the revolution overtook him, 'Maybe… maybe Neo was never the One that Morpheus made him out to be… maybe… he's always been a Redpill, just like Apoc and Switch, just like you and me. He's not the One… He was _never _the-!' A slap caught him across the face and cut his words short.

'Don't!' Dozer growled, 'If you start believin' that, then you're jus' doubtin', and that's somethin' we can't afford to do!' His stronger form seemed to tower above him, 'When you doubt, you deny everythin' that Morpheus has worked hard for, and what everyone has done for the freedom of our people!'

Tank's face of disbelief turned into a scowl, 'Open your eyes, brother!' and he stepped away from Dozer, 'The fact he's dead _proves_ he's not the One!' He held him with a steady gaze, but Dozer would not relinquish his faith, 'Don't you see? Morpheus isn't some great god-head! He's a human, and all humans make mistakes!' He motioned to the body with a sweeping gesture, 'This is one of them! Morpheus may have had faith in Neo, but unless there's proof, he'll believe something so blindly that no one can tell him any different!' He looked at his brother with askance, 'Please! Don't you be the same!'

Dozer broke their eye contact, looked out towards Neo's body, still leaking blood, although the flow had since begun to dissipate, leaving nothing behind but a clogging slog on the floor beneath. His face had become a drained pallor, but despite the display of his death, a psychotic's dream, his features still beheld the calm they had taken on in his repose. His body had yet to give up its soul to what could only be described as a Bluepill's eternal dreaming, not while the cyanosis had yet to tinge his skin, belie the loss of oxygen completely.

A smirk broke out on his face then, and he faced Tank, as if all of his crumbling barriers had been reinforced, 'You're wrong there, Tank. Morpheus still _has _faith in Neo, he ain't done for yet.'

'He _ain't_ done for?!' Tank stared at him incredulously, the frustration building in his face, 'Dozer, he's _dead_!'

'Maybe,' Dozer assented to the perception, 'Morpheus is human, but I believe he 'as reasons for everythin' he does; there must be some reason he chose Neo over everyone in the Matrix.' Tank's frustration was beginning to wane as he felt all his reasoning becoming lost on the air between them, his mouth gaped, 'I admit, 'it's gonna take some kind o' miracle, but this ain't beyond the One.'

Tank's brow began to knit in the face of the predictions being made, 'Dammit, Dozer, this blind faith will get us nowhere. Only a _fool _would take your words for truth.'

'Give it time, little bro.' Dozer smiled broadly, 'I know you don't believe me now, I mean, I know you, you're a Negative Nancy 'bout this sort o' thing, but give it time, Neo'll come through, I jus' know it.'

Tank could only stare at his hand, as the screen by Neo's chair continued to flash its scarlet warnings of danger, or rather, a danger that had already passed, and now a reaffirmation of it. The beep that added to its confirmation continued in its ringing done, and Tank bared his teeth to it, directed a frown at the contraption.

'Damn, this thing's starting to grate on me.' He made a step towards the screen, brought his hand down to the jack still plugged into the centre of Neo's cerebral activity, or lack thereof.

'Don't!' Dozer caught his hand then in a gesture of alarm, 'I told ya, Tank! Just give it time! If you pull that thing out, then you'll be killin' 'im for sure!'

In grudging resignation, Tank tore his hand free of his brother's grip, 'Fine!' and brought himself round to the monitor, dropped himself sullenly in one of the swivel chairs. 'Just tell me when I can unplug him.' He growled.

Dozer settled his features into a smile, and with that, joined him in a seat beside him, 'Jus' you wait, Tank. Zion ain't done for, and neither is Neo; we're gonna win this! We're Zionites, dammit, and that's gotta count for somethin', right?' He cast a grin towards Tank.

'Right,' Tank returned it with a fierce nod, 'but that doesn't mean I believe you.' He frowned, turned to face the monitor and the code that always rained.

Dozer could only laugh; the future seemed assured, as well as their coming success.

-/\*_;)(-

A sentinel glided free of the swarm, headed instead for the rear turret just below, and escaped each bombardment of bullets with a swift ease. It darted its way through into a small crevice behind the hover pads, settled there. It only took a moment before, with tentacles outreaching, it scaled the side, scuttled towards the top, and felt its way through to a central turret where bullets were being fired on a constant wave. Their sparks lit up the azure landscape the ship was retreating from.

Amongst the clatter of shells and mechanical cries that rang out through the air, it based itself above the turret, a momentary witness to the chaos and punishment being dealt upon its brethren. Aim ready, it elicited a red laser, let loose on the circular base of attack, carved its way through to the chamber below with an incomparable ease. It was concentrated heat with a tad of grace, but damnable for the destruction it caused, marked by the bright sparks that rained down on the floor below.

The crew member that had ownership of the chamber, still sat in her seat, turned round towards the carving laser in a blaze of panic, and the whole chamber filled with a metallic crunch and cry as the intruder gained entrance. She had to run, an instinctual urge that sent her arching forward out of her seat, and an impulse that couldn't be denied.

She yanked herself out, narrowly escaped the extended tentacles of the sentinel, but the next attack was a hit. She writhed and screamed beneath the metallic penetration, beneath the tubular arm that she hugged bodily with her solar plexus, only for her to fall to the newly blooded claw. In swift seconds, she had become a deadweight within the turret, now no longer operational.

Whole magazines of ammunition were being emptied upon the swarm, aims were ascertained. But within the thrill of the chase, the panic of escape, the red-screened targets could only grasp hold of scanty images that confirmed, despite all efforts, the sentinels were still coming for them.

The bullets were still firing, but they only etched their way with a slow precision that was ever-changing. What was once a sure-fire was seconds later an easy-miss – the sentinels knew this, they must have, but the bullets did little to discourage them. But he had to keep on firing them, self-preservation wouldn't let him do otherwise – the sparks that rained down behind them went unnoticed.

The sentinels were still rooting their way in, etching their way under the skin of the ship, like an unstoppable parasite. With each laser that carved its way in, with each time a sentinel entered, the ship became a victim to a rapid canker. It soon spread, attacked the extremities before it could make its way for the core.

The wing turret was the first to meet amputation as its head was ripped free from metallic plates in a flurry, for it to leave in rotations. With claws grasping at the side plates of another turret, the sentinels had found a new target, and they ripped them up, as though unfurling a paper-wrapped gift. More easy access, they glided through into the chamber – he didn't turn from his screen. He knew they were there, he growled for all the disdain and dread it filled him with, but whether it was at the lost turret, or the inevitable, it was hard to tell.

The swarm continued to build, clung to the top of the ship's main body, above its core, until for all its mass, they were the only automatons visible. Their strength in numbers was increasing with every metre they covered, and even more still as they made for the head of the ship. Their damnable resilience could no longer be called an admirable feature of their development, not when a sheer number was carving their way through the ceiling with lasers blazing and setting the ceiling alight with its scarlet rays.

But at least there were humans that still remained. Thaddeus was one of them; he could hear the clank of the sentinels above, and he cast a worried glance towards the operator. He returned it with a grimace; there was nothing more they could do, except keep on flying.

It was a great part of the running that was essential for survival, but since they'd already been caught, how long would their so far sustained existence really hold out? They would have to carry on towards safety. It was the only choice they could make; better than taking out their own lives. Running was one thing, but sacrificing their bodies would only achieve a dent in their numbers, it would serve no good. They knew that; they would have to keep going, even if their turrets were down, they weren't. The battle was far from over.

-/\*_;)(-

The rain beat down in heavy bursts from the storm clouds above, in an ever-enduring down-pour that showed no sign of slowing. With each shiver of cool rain, he limped towards the curb where the traffic was starting to slow before him in an illuminated queue of headlights and beeping horns. A red light stopped those restricted by metal and tires in their tracks, and it was then that he saw his chance.

He stepped out from the curb, squeezed through the queue, ignored the blare of horns around him and the faces, contorted in violent smudges of colour that were unknown to him. Neither did he look their way. Their presence was distorted into translucence by the rain on their windscreens; they were great unknowns, blurs in history that the significant care little for, and yet can't survive without, and he passed them by just as easily. The next side was open road, where the rain could go on unblighted by metal obstacles, and he limped on into it.

From the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of the headlight coming towards him, and turned off the crossroad from his right. His limp turned into a half-managed job, his sight was still fuzzy. He knew the curb was somewhere across from him; he could hear the car making a straight line for him, but the details were still blurry. As he heard the roar of tires coming towards him, he got to the curb before the bumper could nip his ankle.

A crowd had built up at his side, many groups of people, or some on their own that were slowly fed into it as they passed him by, ignored the blood that trickled down his brow, his dizzy movements and pale features. There were much more interesting sights down at his left where the crowd filed, outside a hotel along the row of shops. Its front remained clear of all except police vehicles and the authorities as they were kept back by a line of yellow tape, but that didn't stop them gawking. And just above the doors to the hotel, among the rain that pattered down and the thunder that rung clear through the air, the sight was clear for all to see, and for Victor, a familiar sight as any.

_The Heart O' The City Hotel…! Sarah must be…!_

He caught a glimpse of the yellow tape through the crush of the crowd and through the fuss of muted colours amidst the dusk of storm clouds. With the few stragglers left, he followed them like the rest, and limped in a hurried gait. As he breeched the edges of the crowd, the screech of sirens roared down the street beside him and he jumped to hear their blare. But that was soon cut to a pseudo-silence as they halted within the ring of police cars, cordoned by police tape. He had to push through then, shoved with definite force, squeezed through the jostle of the crowd and the men that threw insults his way. But he ignored them, and with more force and sharp jabs, made it to the front.

White vans with streaks of green neon – the paramedics had arrived, and they climbed out from their seats. It was then that he could see why they were needed. A tumult of devastation had been left where the police officers were sprawled across the bonnets of police cars, all were in a battered state between unconsciousness and the weak moans of a waking sleep where the pain and the weight of their injuries had yet to fade. It was as though some stray bull had charged through the men of authority and bowled them over to fall in the gutters of the streets.

A bull, and yet another image came to mind, of a figure that had moments before charged through the traffic. It had turned to face him with glowering circles of gold set within skin, pale with cold, even fear. It had bared its teeth in a grinding fuzz of white where the clear perception of sight was falling, right before it rushed down the street on towards the hotel….

_So… did he cause this…?_

His thoughts were broken by the sounds of more sirens, and he was caught within a jostle of people trying to reach and stretch around for a better look. But they were hardly drawn towards the arrival of another ambulance – those were only a fleeting attraction. No, these vans were black, with white letters clearly painted on the sides. As the vans parked up by the sidewalk, men poured out of the side doors, like kids making an orderly escape from a school bus. Their uniforms were navy blue jumps suits, with pads on their knees, holsters about their thighs and black vests for protection and utility, marked with the police emblem and their unit. Each head was protected by a helmet, the plastic face-shield down and their mouth and nose covered with inner material, more protection. The S.W.A.T team had arrived.

Victor only just recovered his position at the front of the crowd with a woozy haze that still purveyed his senses, but with as much perception as he could afford.

_Is that back-up…?_

They assembled themselves before the foyer doors, and in rows of two they lined up behind long SWAT shields, each with a thick plastic slit to act as a window; sight of the danger ahead, and the necessary protection against it.

An officer at the head of the unit slipped the radio from his thigh holster, and put it to his lips as he pressed a button, 'The perp is still in the foyer, with only one hostage,' he peered through the slit of window, before bringing the radio back to his lips, 'hostage looks unconscious, but the perp's armed; permission to proceed?' A small voice returned over the waves in a skewed mess of static, barely audible amidst the awed calls of the crowd around him, 'Yeah, I think he can.' More static could be distinguished from everything else, but nothing more, 'Looks like a Caucasian male, short brown hair, between the ages of 16 and 20.' As the buzz of the voice called over the radio, it was soon replaced back into his thigh holster.

Victor caught the sight of officers talking within the ring nearby, towards his left, just by the police car. They weren't far away, and their voices could be perceived above the dull roar, slowly waned within the awe of the situation.

'Geez, first our officers are taken down, and now they're sending in back-up.' The officer had his arms akimbo, hands rested on his hips as he gave the SWAT team a disparaging look from the corner of his eye. 'What's with this country, when they have to make so much fuss over one kid?'

The other gave him a nervous look, he seemed younger than the first officer, and 'I heard from one of the hostages that it's not just a kid. There are apparently more inside. One of them reported a man following the kid in.'

'Did they catch a glimpse of his face?' The officer seemed almost like a disbeliever as he questioned in an incredulous tone.

'No, he was wearing a balaclava, just like the kid. Last the hostages saw of him, he went up to the second floor, said they could hear gunshots from above not long after. As far as they know, he's still up there.'

'And there's the kid who took down our force outside.' He growled with bared teeth, 'No one has respect for the force anymore.' He frowned.

'There may be more than that, sir.'

'More?!' His mouth drooped open, and he shook his head in an air of disappointment, 'Jesus Christ.' He sighed.

'The Hotel's Head Chef reported two men entering the kitchen through a back alley; they were held at gun-point and forced into the foyer, before they too went upstairs. Some of the other hostages reported a man entering the bar. He then forced them to head to the foyer, again at gun-point, all except for the barman.' He shifted awkwardly on his feet, and started to struggle beneath the older officer's gaze, 'The barman reported that he was made to make him martinis, until a woman by the name of Laura entered the bar. He says they seemed to be discussing a sort of objective, or at least, he could remember the man saying that "everything's going along as planned". Not long after though, he shot the woman in the leg, supposedly for information, before being killed by a fatal bullet wound to the head. The barman was allowed to leave for the foyer after that.'

'Brutal,' the older officer shook his head, frowned, 'four men, a couple of kids, and maybe more. Whatever's going on, it was organised!' His side-punched his palm, asserted an opinion, 'have there been any reported robberies?'

'None that we know of.' The younger officer confirmed.

'They hold hostages in a five-star hotel, and they're not doing it for the money…. What about drugs? Are there any Class-A drugs on the premises?'

'Again, sir, it would take some investigating, but there haven't been any previously reported drug rings in the area. No smuggling, no pedalling, no reported use.'

'Dammit, what could they be after…?' He cupped his chin between his thumb and forefinger, if only it would reveal the sought after answer.

Suddenly, shots echoed from within, and the glass of the foyer door shattered before them. The unit ducked behind their shields and the crowd shied from the tapeline as though the shots had issued multiple waves, knocking them back with each shot that rung from within. Each created sparks from the bullets hitting the shields, hitting the bonnets of police cars and large shells of ambulances and SWAT vans alike.

A loud voice shouted from within, 'DON'T YOU DARE COME IN, BASTARDS! I CAN STILL FUCKIN' SEE YA!'

The head of the unit called out from behind the shield, 'Unit, hang tight! The perp is armed, and he is dangerous! Wait on an opportunity and then move in on my signal! But not until then!' And with another signal, the unit kept themselves folded behind the shield, rearranged themselves to wait behind the sidewall before the door. He then shouted out towards the officers that were stood around nearby, 'Get the crowd away from the scene! The perp is a danger to human life! We can't risk any casualties!'

With a certain nod, the officers rushed up to the adjacent police lines. The older officer came up to Victor's line, and with motioning arms, beckoned them back, 'Nothing to see here! Move along!' He called out to the crowd, which was met with roars of disdain, trembling fear, and then nodding acceptance, 'This is a dangerous police operation!'

As the crowd began to dwindle around him, the officer was still stood before him, and held his stance of authority that couldn't be challenged. Now was his chance, and though wobbling his position at the front, he held his ground against the glances that wounded officers were throwing him, all for him to call out to the officer just in front, 'who's the hostage?'

'That's none of your concern, kid.' The older officer ground out at the lines in his brow stood out in a prominent mask of age. 'If I were you, I'd beat it while I can! We've had enough of you kids making a mockery of our force!' But as the crowd continued to disperse, as he was once again among the stragglers, he tightened his grip on the plastic line of tape.

_You kids… so that must've been him…._

A squeaking buzz issued once again over the waves of the radio, and the head of unit grabbed it away from his thigh holster. As the roar of the crowd had certainly passed and waned, the voice that came from the little machine was somewhat audible, '…news on the hostage?'

He pressed the radio to his lips, 'Looks like a female, Caucasian, she's still unconscious…' he looked around from his place behind the wall, and ricked a jeer from within, 'I can't see any breathing; we could have a cadaver on our hands.'

His eyes widened as the head of the unit placed the radio back onto the strap of his holster and folded back behind his shield with his rifle poised. He didn't want to believe it, but throughout, no one had let out a sound of recognition that concerned him. No one had grabbed a hold of his arm and tugged him into turning their way, into facing them, or into getting away from the scene while they weren't needed for questioning. His sight began to fuzz away from what clarity had been gained before, and a cold sweat clung at his brow.

_A cadaver… a corpse…? No… it can't be…!_

Author's Note: The chapter title for this chapter, and indeed for the next two chapters, came from the Christian rock band Skillet, and as I listened to the song, I felt the lyrics fit very well. It's from this band that I also got the name for Chapter 17 Falling In The Black, and with the Christian allegory that's prevalent in The Matrix anyway, I felt that the band had a lot to offer in terms of inspirational lyrics.

It's a shame to say, but yes, Neo is dead. I killed him. Sorry. That's all I can really say about that. Now this is something I forgot to mention in the last author's note for Chapter 21, but a while back, when I was following (receiving e-mails through them via my Hotmail), I got an e-mail from the Silva Team, and the video that came in the link was quite… strange. It introduced the idea that, by using a train of thought, you can become what's called a "Reality Architect", that we can become real-life Neo's through using the practises. I'll have to upload the link onto here, because it is interesting to look at, but I'm not in any way advocating their methods. I haven't tried to put them into use of my own volition, but rather I found the video interesting simply because of the culture reference to the Matrix. It was also more interesting that, at the end of the video, there was a choice. If you wanted to find out more about the methods, then you clicked the Red pill, and the Blue pill if you didn't.

In any case, even though it's taken me a long time to get this uploaded (since Valentine's Day last year), I do intend to carry this series on, even after the end of this arc, because they're a lot of interesting things to come, the introduction of some new characters and new concepts within the franchise, and I'm very excited to introduce them to you! There's been so much planning that's gone into it, and there's no way that I'll let it go to waste. The reason it's also taken me so long, is because I've concentrating my energies into developing an original story concept of mine that I wish to turn into a graphic novel one day, with myself as both the creator and the artist. I owe The Clier Path a lot though for the inspiration, as well as the Tin Tin film from 2011, because without them, I would never have created it, and it's helped me get through a lot of stress and changes in my life. I'm so much better than I was now, and so I shall continue to write this series as much as possible.

I hope to make the chapters shorter after the end of this arc and with less metaphorical detail so that it's easier to follow, because I do realise that, for some, it does skim over your head. Now, I hope to also receive a review from you, because as I've often said, I do not put up the next chapter until after a review has been given for the latest one, and then Chapter 23 should be up on a Saturday in three weeks time – so that we're all clear, that's the 4th of May. That may sound like a while, but at least it's a lot less than over a year to wait like last time.

Thank you for your avid reading of this series and I hope, dear reader, to hear your thoughts on it. Now that I'm on an English and Writing University course, I'm always looking for a way to improve on my skills, even more so now that I have a goal to attain.

You can also find this story on my wordpress blog, through the username heatherfox1994. I haven't put up an omake on this chapter, but that's because they are now being written at a separate speed to these chapters. I will hopefully get another chapter up soon.

Thanks once again for your time, and I hope you tune in for the next chapter of The Clier Path. With Love,

Ophelia Davis


	23. Awake And Alive Part 2

"_Death is not the worst that can happen to men."_ – Plato

She carried on running; her steps couldn't falter, not even for a second. They were depending on her, everyone was depending on her; even Zion was weighing the pressures of its load upon her shoulders, but that didn't deter her speed. Most of all, Thaddeus was depending on her. She had the speed to make it; she knew that all too well – she knew the alleyways like the back of her hand. She had memorised all directions, she kept the message tight in her grip – she will make it, she _will _make it!

_Keep running! Don't ever stop!_

-/\*_;)(-

The presage of darkness was an enormous weight for anyone to endure after the final pain still lingered, whether their time was spent in repose, whether it was finite, or suddenly eternal – just its very occurrence caused the most disturbances. But, for all the fear it struck into the strongest of men, it could easily be cured… with the simple act of becoming conscious. But even consciousness, being time-dependent, was not certain when time was no longer possible. How could time-dependent consciousness exist, when someone's time was at an end?

An occurrence of thought, a question posed with a mind once and momentarily disjointed, was all it took to raise him from that heavy pool of agony that was the darkness. He was brought towards the brink of his imprisonment until all it took… was for him to open his eyes. As the light flooded in through his lids, the pain was washed away completely, but it was searing, new, and he shut them quickly. Where had the pain come from…? Back within the darkness, a sharp ache penetrated his chest as it had done before; fresh as it was then, stealing all it could…! So that's where, and he bared his teeth at the memory.

'Damn, did that suck!' He growled with a sharp intake of breath, but as his eyes fell softly open, the pain shrank back from its shining brilliance. Each passing series of moments brought him to the realisation of peace, and his eyes were able to sustain the light half-mast. His eyes were already in focus, that he could only stare up into the expanse of the white space above as though new images and wonders were unfolding from its purity. And yet, this place was familiar. It was there when he awaited the blur of the Matrix, a place that would lend all of its resources to his possible success.

'Wait, is this…?' His eyes widened then. Suddenly, his lips spread into a grin, he covered his face as his body was consumed with spasms of laughter, and descended into a giddy mirth, 'oh, thank God!' The whole plain of space echoed with the bounce of his laughter. It recoiled from his ear, and back towards the further most spaces of the expanse, 'I'm ALIVE!' He cackled even harder for all that his lungs could manage; right now they could manage anything, the space for breath seemed endless, 'Tank and Dozer must've gotten to me first…!' The mirth began to die on his lips then, and it descended into sputtered wheezes and half-managed giggles as he clutched his sides, sighed finally as a wash of relief calmed his nerves, a smile on his lips, '… or Morpheus….'

_Do you really think so?_

He shot up suddenly, whizzed around about him in a state of confusion. Another voice, someone else, so he wasn't alone-! He saw it then – it loomed over him, larger than anything he had encountered. It was incomprehensible for the living, and yet it was there, plain for all to see-! The Gate. Two shut doors that floated above the conceivable ground, made of stone, or as far as he could tell, but for them to seem so light… to leave a shadow below their stance…. Little here made sense, but then, since when did the Matrix make sense in the first place? This was just another part of the Matrix, hidden from the sight of the bluepills! Yeah, that's it, since when could those blind bastards see anything anyway? Their whole life had been spent in a fog, so how could they…?

But it was still there, floating, with the clarity of his sight, adorned with recognised indents, tiny inscriptions of letters and numbers on every inch of stone… the code, the very foundation of the Matrix, and now, of his mural, his would-be grave-marker. His eyes scanned across every little character encoded into the doors. For this to be his own fate, it must contain everything, full name, data. His very _path _was encrypted into the seamless rock. His eyes widened as he tried to decipher it all, scanned downwards in the direction of the usual rain, as though over ancient kanji, until his eyes fell from the door. He found someone sat there, staring at him patiently with a canvas-fresh face.

Someone, or rather, a being, but for lack of a better term, and in shape only – its whole structure seemed ethereal as its body contained the purity of the expanse in its whiteness, all except for the black grainy smoke that formed its outline, that seemed to hold everything together and made up its negative. Its head seemed to tilt in his direction, and as he narrowed his eyes, he too, like the code of his mural, was trying to decipher it, as though to peer inside and learn its make-up, but for all its simplicity... it was unfathomable and so continued with its eyeless stare.

'Where am I?' He wasn't sure if the sound had come from _it _exactly, but neither had he seen it before… was this another training program…?

_Certainly not where you think you are._

A large mouth opened across its face, and it traced the sounds of the words in a cacophony of high and low that echoed across the plain, and yet it was a simple utterance.

He dared then to smirk, 'And where would _that _be?'

_The Construct._

Again, so simply uttered, and yet it confirmed the unconceivable, because only the living had the ability to conceive of thoughts both naïve and profound. His face seemed to open up to the idea, widen, until he was overcome with the shock, that consumed him completely. So then… death was not only imminent… it was real, it was here, it was now. _He _was _dead_. But as his mind began to engage with the idea, in the series of moments and non-time that passed, his face began to draw into a frown. The pain had passed, he at least had some consciousness of himself, and all considered, harm could not reach him. At least he could form his final stance, an act of defiance in the face of his captor, dubbed Death.

'Then where am I?' He growled.

_I think it would be more prudent not to ask where _you_ are, but who _I _am_.

His face tilted into a further state of confusion, as far as states of anything were possible, 'Then….'

It's face spread into a large grin, and the smoke thinned out to accommodate. Its arms, distinguished by the ethereal negative, rose up as though to encompass everything, to signify everything it was.

_I am what you might call "the World", or "the Matrix", or "Real", or the "Universe", or "God", or "Faith", or "Truth", or "All", or "One", and I… am you._

He stumbled, as though the strength of each word knocked him back, and he fell on his butt, frozen on the spot. Even the Agents paled in comparison to this, his fear of them was insignificant here, and never before had the fear engulfed him entirely. He was there before what the religious might conceive as the Gate of Heaven, and its keeper, the supposed _"God"_, had yet to remove its gaze from him. He was its focus, and truly, this was the end.

The grin fell from its lips as soon as it had appeared, and the head of _"Truth"_ tilted, as though to remove its gaze. But within his shock, that action only served to invoke more bewilderment. He could only wait. His fists clenched on some hope of existence, on the confirmation of fate, and god how he dreaded its coming.

Without a word, it then rose to its feet. He screwed his eyes shut, flinched back in a paralysis of fear that dared to bring the darkness back around him. Any movement that might come from the being before him was left soundless amidst the resonance of his screaming; his dying pain audible, an agony already passed. It clawed at his chest in a never-ending cycle of time not-yet-existing that, within this gap of nothing more happening, he wanted then nothing more but to be rid of it.

He drew his eyes open in slow degrees. The being was still stood there, in the same spot, staring down at him in a gaze-without-sight. This being did nothing. He narrowed his eyes towards it and stared from his peripheral, unnerved. Surely by now…?

'Wh-What are you going to do to me?' His voice started to quiver, grated against the dragged out destiny not yet forthcoming. But the being still didn't move from its spot.

_Nothing…_

He glared up at it, stunned. Its answer lacked any of the humour he might expect from a being that held the key to his fate, and had all the control it could ask for. Instead, all he could pick up on was a forlorn echo that told rightly of the seriousness of the topic and the understanding that transpired from it, which was none so far.

'What do you…?'

_There's not much I can do for the living._

In his astonishment, he forced himself up onto shaky feet, as though to stare into the blank face of the thusly dubbed Death for more clarity. Maybe then he'll pick up on the understanding he was looking for, stare it straight in the eyes while their heights were evenly matched. But an image without colour or items of decoration can't give up its secrets, or let a stray clue enter the sight of others.

'How can that-?' His face drew into a frown as he laid his hands on his own chest, proving the solidity of his existence, 'I died, didn't I?'

_You did, and all deaths endured within the Matrix must abide by its laws – it's the same for all, from the greatest of leaders, to the lowliest of beggars. That is, except for the One exception… and as the One, the laws of the Matrix do not apply._

A sense of humour returned to the smoke of its lips, its grin widened back into comprehension, and Neo, the One exception, could hardly track his eyes away from it, '… How is that possible?'

_Can't you see the evidence before you, One who doubts?_

With a wider grin, the being stepped back, closer to the Gate, and knocked against its rock, which caused loud thuds to echo across the expanse. His whole body barely withstood the heavy reverberations that pulsated through his form in response to the external invasion. It caused his chest to pump in arduous beats; a retaliation that could hardly measure up to the attack.

_It's all been encrypted here, in the coding of your soul; "Gravity", "Physics", "Death", such states and the laws they encompass hold no meaning for you. As long as you're the One, they cannot touch you. _

His eyes were struck wide. The revelation, the very words that poured from the being spilled into his ears – everything, his mind, and the very darkness that stubbornly revisited him with the pain of death was drowned out by the echoes of multitudes of voices, speaking from one mouth. Its very essence almost sent him awry. He had to calm himself, and drawing in deep breaths, he shut his eyes to allow the full comprehension of it all to begin. Yes, the depths of death and its agonies were truly drowned out by the voices, and it was here, from where the darkness reposed, that her voice spoke to him among the words of _"Truth" _itself.

_If there's someone you love, then rules shouldn't matter!_

His eyes flashed open from the place where death itself had been dwarfed to insignificance, his mouth hung open, 'She was right… Trinity… was right all along…. The rules don't apply!' As his face ground up into a scowl, he covered it, and rapped against his head in frustration, 'dammit, why didn't I listen to her?!'

_It's true what the prophets say; with death comes knowledge, and in new life, the chance to act upon it. That in itself is an undeniable "Truth". You're lucky that few such as yourself have that chance; only a fool would waste it. _

The being simply for all its infinite knowledge, and its grin, the fact that it _knew_ the worth of knowledge, was such that it could not be wafted away. As though the being's very worth had called upon it, a voice echoed all about them, crying and screaming for all the fear and despair they emanated, called out to the dead – the voice that was once within, but now without.

_'N-Neo… please… you can't die… I love you… please… don't be-!'_

'Trinity!' He screamed for the quivering tones of her voice, sweetly familiar, and yet it trembled in a painful wave of agony that grated against his soul. He twisted for it, but the resonances of the echoes soon dissipated, shrank into the expanse, as though to be buried like treasure in an unmarked grave. He turned back towards the being then, his face creased in a knit of tension. 'If death can't touch me, then let me go back! She needs me! I have to-!'

_Not so fast…_

He was struck silent in his haste, unable to find the words to throw back as the being folded its smoky arms against its chest.

_It's as I said before; death is the same for all and for those who have endured it, I have a special gift reserved for them…._

With slow steps, the being left the presence of the doors, and the great Gate opened before them with a dreaded creak, the signal for every one of its visitors of doom or death. Each series of moments that passed brought closer a harnessed darkness, and within it, a line of light screwed up against the blank brightness of the white, for it to unfold, positioned on its side, as though a sleeping man waking where he had reposed in the darkness. Beneath its lids, the ink black pupil dilated at the sight of him, enveloped within rings of the irises in all their fifty shades of grey, where all colour had diffused from existence.

_Everything comes at a price, Thomas Anderson, and for the toll that you've paid, like so many others who have lost their lives; I shall show you Everything… the full extent of the Truth!_

Long, thin arms flung themselves from within that endless darkness, streamed outtowards him at a speed that couldn't be matched. There were so many, so numerous, they were all that consisted of his sight. He tried to beat them back, thrash his arms away from their grasps, dash in a back-pedal of panic and fear, but they were soon wrapped around his limbs and he couldn't break free. He screamed for release, thrashed about madly as he was pulled into a forced surrender, the eye growing closer.

_Why do you struggle? Death is equal, but for you who can endure life once again, you can come back with the Truth you've gained. You should feel privileged when so many have passed through this Gate and never returned. _

He was caught in a reel of breathless screams as he was forced past the stone doors, closer still to the eye. He forced out his arms, tried to grab a hold of the lip of the door, but the drag was too strong. The grip of his fingers began to weaken with the strain. The door started to creak shut, the panic was rising within him, and sweat clung to his brow. He was pulled free, he screamed – fear of the unexpected, that the darkness would swallow him forever. He was dragged with a stronger force, away from the opening of the door, and further, 'til only a glimpse of light could be seen from the gap, but then, it was forever snuffed, darkness forever.

All that was left behind was a white expanse, full of quiet, nothingness, as though undisturbed by human life or limb.

_Goodbye, for now, Thomas Anderson. _

-/\*_;)(-

The corridor remained encased in a sullen darkness; the cold stagnant air hung low within the muted colours, and encroached on his skin. It hugged at his face, drained pale from the wound he clutched and the blood that still leaked. But, at least for now, he wouldn't have to suffer the shocks of pain that walking caused as he reached his destination.

He stood before the door, where spells of cordial light cast their thin beams onto the metallic numbers screwed into the wood of the door. He had to squint to perceive the numbers, to read how the metal sheen reflected on each even curve, _284_. A smile curled along his lips then, despite the sweat that clung at his brow from the effort – he had made it to the room.

He grasped the door handle then, but it was before he could step forward with the push that he caught another sight. It was deep scarlet, and carried the distinct shine of globules with a liquid density, welled beneath the wood as if to escape to the nearest drain. He gulped, hardened his grip on the handle. The pain in his right thigh sharpened with the halt of the mid-motion, he could only gulp with the anticipation of what might lie behind the door – that's when the fear washed through him. It struck down his capabilities with cold shivers, which caused his metal auto-mail to tap against the handle in bauble-like tinks. He had to seize his wrist to keep it silent.

_Whatever's there, you can't let it stop you!_

He squeezed his eyes shut with each assertion of words, inner admonishments that he threw at himself as he heaved in breath.

_The mission isn't over yet, not just because you were able to climb a flight of stairs!_

He tightened his grip on the handle, now there was no chance of it shaking, not with the stability he was slowly gaining.

_Now come on, Ed, this isn't the first time you've seen blood. You've seen worse than this, much worse!_

Even through indirect mention, he couldn't help but beckon the image into his mind: a body, distorted and disproportionate where alchemy had wreaked its havoc upon the innocent and the dead. Horrifically tortured where the misuse of an almighty power had ripped its chest open and its ribs apart to reveal the vain beatings of a heart. But though ridden with pain, the body still reached out for him in desperation with a frail hand. Gasping for breath, it begged that it might be saved from-!

He tried to shake the image away, tried to let go of the blood that gushed from its sudden demise, from the rank smell of decay that issued, and faced the door head-on.

_They're depending on you, goddammit! Get in there already!_

With a final gulp, and a final grasp for whatever strength he could scrabble for, he slowly pushed the door open before him.

He was hit with the metallic tang of blood; it swamped his sense, built up at the back of his throat, as though to join a swelling lump that was amassing with the wave of emotion. Not even an inch away, a pool of blood, shining as though alight with a cordial fire – within its centre, the source of the pool itself.

Her body had become a stiff and lifeless shell of her former self, it showed in the powder whiteness of her pallor, as pale as her white dress, now stained with her blood. From what he could assess, years of research and one night could tell him that, no matter who dared to grab a piece of chalk and mark an intricate circle beneath her, her stolen life would never be restored.

His eyes scanned further, and he found the source from where the blood flowed thickest. Beneath ripped fabric, from where her left breast sagged from assault and surrender, her chest was bared open in a morbid sense of pornography where nakedness of all forms was the true objective. Within the chambers of her fractured ribs, he found a completely crushed lump of flesh, blackened and scarlet, surrounded by the blue tinge of cyanosis that dappled the palette of her skin like a rash. A frail muscle, imprisoned with the life sentence of a bluepill, and truly, no one would be capable of fixing that broken heart.

_Yes, you've seen worse… but this…._

His face fell then, completely distorted into a sullen frown with a knitted brow. He tried to swallow back the still-forming lump, and with deep heaving breaths, he forced himself into limping forward. The sounds of each awkward step, of each tromp in the liquid, made his stomach wench sickly and twist, as though he were treading her very being into the ground, and damning the very essence of her.

He sank to his knees before her, his lower lip quivered and a sharp hiss drew from between them at the pressure that his thigh holster asserted - his assessing gaze found hers, wide and staring towards him, as though searching for her murderer.

His whole body fell into shaking, but he couldn't seize it in a bid for stability, not like last time. For now, there was only one thing he could do, and he reached out for her face, and with the tips of his fingers, pressed them lightly to the ice-cold flaps of her lids. With some gentle pressure, he pulled them down. Here non-gazing sight was brought into darkness, that maybe, in that one gesture, it might give her a comfort. But, for those that caused it….

_If this is what they're capable of, then we're truly up against monsters…._

For now, he brought his hand away, and in doing so, offered his focus to where the blood had flowed, settled on the streaks and lines of blood that had dried just before the bed. There had been signs of a struggle. Switch wasn't the only victim to the monster they were up against, a victim of some desperate fight. But, was it a fight for life? If so, there was no distinction between the blood she had left behind, and the blood that may have been left behind by someone else. Right down to its basic elements and make-up, it was the same substance, capable of keeping a mass of millions alive – unlike snow; no two samples were unique, unless the intrinsic acids were investigated further.

_Is that… Roy's blood as well…?_

The redness of effort once in his cheeks seemed to drain from his face completely. Wherever he is, he could be hurt, and against these monsters; he could be dying, on the brink of death itself!

He could feel it then, his very being sinking into the darkness, where everyone he looked up to, everyone he knew and loved, simply walked away from him in an act that disregarded the very idea of his existence. He was left alone to wander and cry out within the dank depressive depths of despondency. Here, there was no one to hear him scream, his tears were his only comforter.

_No! I won't be-! I can't be alone-! Not like…. Not like last time…!_

His face cut through the image with a scowl that hardened into overwhelming determination, and his fists clenched up in his lap, because for the life of him, he couldn't let _anyone _slip away.

_Dammit, that's why I'm here! I can't let anyone else die because of my mistakes, because of my incapability!_

He tore his sight away from the finality of the blood, focused instead on the black metal of the guns that littered the bed sheets, to the boxes that were stored down the side of the bed, but overwhelmed by their numbers, focused on the straps draped around the bedpost. He slowly rose to his feet then, and with a slow, chilling reverence, stepped over the corpse, because now that was all it had been reduced to.

For now, she was in a better place. Not alone, but with family, with old friends she knew in her previous life as a bluepill, but most importantly, Apoc, who she joined with the transpiration of her passing. For that alone, she must be happy, no longer burdened with the responsibilities of war – for her, it was over. She had fought bravely against the Machines, and proven herself victorious. He couldn't help but smile at that. Maybe he too could hope that, in time, to be treated to a paradise that rewarded him for all his hardships with his innermost desires. In this business, it was all _anyone _could hope for.

With this resolution, he stepped through the drying pool of blood, pulled off his long leather jacket and threw it on the bed. He seized upon a shoulder holster from the post, fed his arm through it and strapped it shut in a clingy embrace. He stroked along the familiar coolness of a gun, grabbed hold of another, and forced them both into the holsters beneath his pits. He took off the longer straps of the shoulder holsters on top; he found the shorter straps of the thigh holsters beneath and fought them free of the post. One was wrapped around his right thigh, just below the tighter strap, and strapped tight just so. He grabbed two more guns from the pile, and so the holsters at his right and left were fed with weaponry.

He gave a final sigh in the pause of his actions, tried then to cool the stewing anticipation in his stomach. It was now or never, with everything he had, he was ready to face them. With no more time for further preparation, he made a smooth grab for his leather jacket, and slipped it round him. He stole a glance towards the door, towards the muted darkness that lay outside.

_That's right, they're depending on me. And now, just maybe, I can- no, we can still win this. _

That's when he caught something out of the corner of his eye, something round and ridged within the mess of long weapons, but upon recognition, just as lethal. His lips slipped into a smooth grin as the gears of his mind started to whir into more prominent action, a forming plan.

_I wonder…._

-/\*_;)(-

Even now, there were sentinels bent on joining the attack, and they rained down from the air's clogged darkness to ensure that their opposition met a sound defeat. They were a force to be reckoned with, all other hovercrafts that had crossed their paths and _lived _were very few, but they weren't liars. For their insectile size in comparison to the Osiris, every inch of the ship's top was crowded with their forms and alight with the molten glow and heated metal as every available laser set to work on carving their way through the top of the ship. That area was the most prone to attack, and the most suited to defence, but that was proving little worth with the numbers it was up against.

Yet still more joined the attack, the sentinels swarmed together in a coil, and they smashed through within seconds. Not even the metallic plates of the hull could stand against the sheer force that their numbers ensured. But neither could the ship.

The rear section of the ship was severed from the rest. It sailed down to the ground as the head started to rotate, span out of control in a spiralling descent towards the dirt and rubble of the surface below, and sailed down into darkness that not even the azure-light of the surface could touch. That light disappeared from their sights long ago, and became a representation of their lost hope. Now the ship's collision was a sealed destiny as it scraped through the rubble, now followed close behind by a long recoiling spring of sentinels.

Human lives, it seemed, were ripe for the taking.

-/\*_;)(-

Through the dark haze of his sight, his senses pricked at the sound of muffled scrapes, the vibrations against the floor as something juttered along minute bumps of material resistance, coming from the fuzz at his feet. His mind still struggled though, and lost track of everything he once knew. It was in the realisation of that fact that he tried to scrabble for control through the pulsations of red that had shrouded his sight completely.

More sounds began to penetrate through the haze; the fast beeps of a racing heart voiced through mechanical audibility, further muffled scrapes and the creak of weight settling on wood – only then was he able to rise out of his stupor. The colours of his peripheral sharpened into focus, as though newly viewed, as though they were colours of the world upon waking to it. But he found no rest or relief, instead found himself huddled against the wall. Hot pain throbbed in the junction between his neck and shoulder – the realisation of that alone brought his mind back into remembrance and focus.

Who could forget the rage that had passed through those shaking fists? It only felt like moments ago. Or the trembling of a man in agony, his whole body dragged down by a drug-induced weight that pumped through his veins, and would do so relentlessly? Even if a temporary retrograde amnesia had taken hold, the persistence of the situation would've reminded him. He huffed in deep, heavy breaths and groaned with a dry mouth at the sight of it.

But the Agent paid no attention to him. He was too focused on the man before him, whose legs dug into the legs of the chair in the faint hope of driving out the pain, but that in itself was disregarded. He was surveyed with nothing more than blankness in his features, the same as anyone who surmised a blank sheet of paper, or an insignificantly small bug. A persistent mask of cold-blooded professionalism that would rival even the most monstrous of war veterans – Roy knew that for a fact, he even knew old men who viewed their monstrous acts with an inch of remorse. This then was the visible difference between man and machine, but the latter also harboured its own sentience. No one would've believed him if he professed to the Agent's rage before, if they saw him now, but then, that wouldn't matter – their disbelief would be shattered by their sudden deaths. Such was the nature of their cold professionalism.

His focus was drawn to Agent Smith as the machine grasped a hold of Morpheus' chin. It was enough to bring out a well of frustration in Roy, though his strength waned, and his hold on consciousness was debatable. Just… that the Agent would dare _touch _him – it was a sudden crash of realisation, that they weren't protected against this mechanical malice. Even in the fear felt just as strongly as his frustration, he knew he had to do _something_ – even if action wasn't altogether possible, he would do _anything_. He tried to struggle against his bonds, but he couldn't do as much as before. His arms were still tied in front of him, his arms folded to keep his hands together and inactive. It was only capable of keeping pressure on his wound, and as he struggled more, the pain of his injury, and the rawness of the chafing rope was enough to give a gasp and scream from the resulting agony.

But the Agent was focused on other things, and cared little for the expression of agony, and he drew Morpheus' face upwards. The man's eyes rolled with inner turmoil, and the air around them was greeted with an instant chill at the smooth, hushed grate of his voice.

'Can you hear me, Morpheus?' And he released his chin just as easily, for it to loll down to his trembling chest. His reaction to the man's pain was passive at best, so much so that as he removed his shades, and remained regardless of Morpheus. Instead, he tucked his shades inside the pocket of his shirt, where the gold lining of his jacket ruffled into view, before it disappeared once again. Then, using a finger, he tugged at the wire at his neck for his earpiece to dangle at his collar.

_God help us…._

Roy too descended into trembling; he felt a distinct dampness overcome his sight. It welled as he heaved for breath in sporadic motions, as the continuous pain served a reservoir for the tangy wetness of blood that soaked his arms and chest.

_Edward… help us…._

'I'm going to be honest with you,' and his dismissal diffused into a complete focus as he leaned in towards Morpheus, almost touched, or was about to, and stared him full in the face. Roy couldn't help but recoil, forced his back into the wall as though he himself were sat in that seat, and his fear went unnoticed. 'I… _hate _this place.'

The ire lingered on his breath, like fog that trailed from his lips and into cold air in such a clear show of emotion, a change from the steeliness of his manner that was instantly regrettable by those who may have wished to see _more _of the machine.

'This zoo,' His eyes darted from one corner of the room, 'this prison', to the other, including within every minute structure of his sight the entirety of all that fell into view. Their colour, for all the ice his eyes emitted, resembled still a fate shared by all those bound to the rules, laws and regulations that had to be abided by within the Matrix – it was a fate that he had to acknowledge, 'This reality, whatever you want to call it, I can't_ stand _it any longer,' and yet would never be able to escape.

The Agent's face crushed up as his sight zeroed in on the trembling man, coated in sweat from the internal pressure, a weight that could not be released, as though he had been reduced to cowering beneath this higher power.

'It's the smell!' His lips perked as he continued to survey the man, hunched without a real focus, being forced to listen to words that he couldn't deny or vocally silence, 'If there is such a thing.' He frowned in an air of disgust, teeth bared, 'I feel… _saturated_ by it.' His words came out, as though spat with the lucidity and filthiness of venom. He drew air through his nose as if in demonstration, as if cemented within a pit of human defecation that no mere mortal could stand. It confirmed a great tolerance naturally found in a being able to suppress the expression of a hatred he had for all that made up his prison cell, a vat made up of opaque walls, never able to see beyond. 'I can…' His face scrunched again and he brought long fingers in to prod roughly at the man's bald scalp, 'taste your stink,' slid along the top of it until his whole hand swept fully across his skin in a forceful caress. It moved towards the back, and Morpheus, in his drug-induced enslavement, could do nothing but allow his head to follow the motion, as though it might carry some relief. The sweat that the Agent mopped up now dripped from his finger-tips. His thumbs rolled and rubbed it further into his skin, as though savouring it, or mulling on a point.

Roy openly gaped at the action with disgust and disbelief, where bile threatened to rise into his throat with a swell of hot saliva from a churning gut. How the Agent was _touching _him brought to mind a sickening revulsion for what was, before him, an imitation of someone who cared, wished to save the man from agony….

'And every time I do,' he spat out the words in a harsh growl and a drawn-back motion of abhorrence, but there's only so much a human face could express, especially within his strained manner, 'I fear that I've somehow been _infected _by it.' He forced the tips of his fingers to the bottom of Morpheus' nose, 'it's repulsive,' and dragged his face up for him to take in the revolting aroma, for Morpheus to choke out a sound in protest, inaudible though, 'isn't it?'

… Only for it to be thrown back into the face of the agonised, encouraged disgust and fear at the mere sight of it – only a machine could turn a caress into a rancid display.

"Stop it", Roy choked out dryly from the wall behind Morpheus that held up his shaken body, "please, just stop it." He hardly realised, could hardly believe that his mind had sunk so far into the idea that he could achieve something by bargaining with an inhuman being. But he couldn't stop himself either, and with each heaved breath, beseeching words of pleading tumbled out in a half-muttered form, already weak. But they hardly mattered, as though he'd been thrown into a vacuum, never to be heard or acknowledged. At least he wasn't in Morpheus' place – he would've cracked by now, even long ago.

Morpheus' head was seized in an abrupt explosion of emotion. Roy pushed back into the wall in a state of shock and panic, ignored the pain that flared. Each tip of the Agent's fingers seemed to have rooted themselves into Morpheus' facial structure, and he drew his face closer, with eyes glaring in an unguarded malice.

'I must get out of here!' He forced Morpheus into looking at him, now burdened and trapped beneath the convulsive tremors of his hands. 'I must get free!' Morpheus could hardly bear it any longer, and tried in vain attempts to pull away. He choked and panted out almost voiced reverberations of agony, worse than what he had endured before, 'And in this mind is the key, _my _key!'

Roy gritted his teeth within the strain; to see this man hold his nerve against such torment was becoming too much to bear, and he too was suffering from the internal pressure. It built at a remarkable rate, growing, swallowing up the frustration of before until it all came to a head. An agonised throb surged through his mind, took hold and started to build roots, until he began to sway dizzily under its hold. But even then it didn't relent, not while its victim was trying desperately to grab at consciousness.

'Once Zion is destroyed there is no need for me to be here, do you _understand_?!'

While consciousness was still possible, he tried to hold his ground, taking a lesson from Morpheus, and then with extra determination, for it to be put into practise. It was then that he hunched over with agony, and his body hugged itself into the tightness of restraint – he rocked with it, tried to wheedle the pain out of his system.

'I need the codes.'

But as he dared to glance back up at Morpheus, his eyes grew wider, as though he recognised the sight of a man caught in a blast of scorching flames – head up, back arched, as though calling out to the divine to extinguish them. Always, from the core of that destruction, there was a pure and wretched hell of screaming and Morpheus, for all his resistant bravery, could be taken for such a victim; even through the silence, Roy's mind could hear the anguish that painted the air between them. But, from within that grew a shriller voice, high and piercing in the efforts of its sporadic gasps and shrieks of dependence. It was a pain that could not be communicated through words, when they had yet to be learned.

'I have to get inside Zion and you have to tell me _how!_'

He could hear it now. It overpowered the brunt of a man's deep wails. How could he forget the cries of a helpless baby that in its chances for survival created within its progenitors an empathetic chaos, a tumult of agony that commanded aid of any kind, anything to ease the pain to fulfil its desires? It was a cry that generated an impending fate and realisation in the very sensation; of searing loss, as the sound pierced sharply into his very core, of images that plagued his mind… thoughts… memories….

"PLEASE! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD! STOP!"

But no one was able, or willing, to listen to his exhortations, to heed or help him, he the helpless baby.

'You are going to tell me or you are going to die!'

The Agent pressed further into Morpheus' head, harder, with a violent intention as he shook, as though willing his faith to penetrate Morpheus'. The man was completely arrested within the hold, quivered – his sounds gained more voice, more volume, as though a bomb that teetered on the edge of thin ice, ready to tip, ready to explode. Roy too was arrested in a blubbering fit, tears swelled within this empathetic torture. It grew worse, and caused him to tremble, his eyes screwed up to save himself from the visual agony.

The door clicked. Agent Smith relinquished his hold, stood up from his seat, and his gaze fell onto the door as it opened before them. Morpheus' head fell to his chest, and in the release of him, Roy swayed and fell back onto the wall, breathing heavily, as though released from strangulation. He blinked hard as all the high-pitched wails ceased, and finally, in the synapse of action, he gazed up at the door, to find _him _stood there.

Every part of him was covered in blood, smattered and stained where it now dried along the skin of his face. It crusted up in the blond folds of his hair, where a familiar a metallic tang emanated. It had soaked into his clothes, added the shade of cloying red to the damp black, as though from a severe injury. But as he stood there, unphased and carrying a smile of determination, his fists clenched where blood dripped from them. He was under no perceivable pain or stress, uninjured and unharmed. For the first time since rising from unconsciousness, a weak, almost joyful smile perked on his lips, genuine and without delusion. Just as he had been released from the empathetic torture, all of his prays had finally been answered.

"Fullmetal…." Roy breathed out, and in the laughter that overcame him, he grinned wider as golden eyes alighted on him in the recognition of his name. "It's so good to-."

But as Edward stepped into the room, another figure stepped in close behind him, followed him in as Edward stood by the wall, shut the door behind her. Her frame seemed worn with fatigue, tiring as though with the age of the dust that clung to her form, weakened by the poverty of bare feet.

"Ed…!" Realisation overtook his grin as the frustration began to boil anew in his chest, and as it dawned, he became a slave to the panic that it administered, "What are you doing here?!" He screamed then, and bared his teeth, to communicate the battle yet to be fought, "You should've left with Trinity!" and as he motioned his head to the door, a battle that was better avoided, "Run now, while you still have the chance!" He could feel the presence of Agent Smith just close by, and in his panic, his eyes darted between them and the Agent, but he didn't move to stop them.

Trinity almost recoiled as she recognised the form of the man in the seat as he trembled, heaved breath weakly in a silent agony; only the blips of the heart monitor could demonstrate to others the pain he was suffering. It was as if something within her was dragging her forward, 'Morph-!' but as she made a motion towards him, she was impeded by Edward's left arm, and she, helplessly, stepped back silently, unable to do anything.

"I'm insulted you would couple me with that little pipsqueak." His voice carried a deep, feminine grate that made Roy's skin crawl with the familiarity, and he gaped at him with widened eyes, "I haven't seen him once, I doubt he's even here, right?" He sneered then in a rude imitation of the boy, twisted his face and turned it into something it should never be, an alchemy that transmuted love into hate. The remembrance of a man before, that stood in the doorway soaked in blood, turned Roy's panic into a deep-set frown.

_I should've known…._

He had to admit it – for all their hoping, for all their efforts, everything seemed to crumble beneath them, until their failure became a predictable outcome of what they were hoping would be a successful mission. But for all their numbers, the capabilities of their enemies had them outnumbered from the start. But they have the One! That alone should count for something! It should've boosted their numbers tenfold, at least! But if not even Neo can save her…!

Roy's eyes widened, swayed between Envy and Trinity in the slow forming of realisation. It grew from his mind for it to be made flesh with his words, "Wait… if you're here then…!" he gulped, worked his jaw as he gritted his teeth in a smouldering look of anger, "Where's Neo…?"

Envy's mask rewarded him with a smirk, a deformed sense of mimicry far different from anything that could've been found on the real article, "He's right here." His smirk grew wider then, twisted constantly under the strain of trying to sustain his mirth.

Roy's eyes quickly went to the door. But, in the minutes that passed, he didn't hear or see a single thing that belied a man's footsteps or a man entering through the door in just the nick of time. Instead, his expectations were met with nothing but silence, and in the deflation of further hope, he threw a questioning gaze towards Trinity, "What does he mean, Trinity?" The confusion overcame him.

Her gaze shifted from his, bowed out of the contact, and her face creased up. Her brows knitted as the dampness started to form in her eyes – something was clearly welling inside, something that couldn't simply be pushed away. It clawed at her as she drew her arms around her body, and began to shake weakly.

"Trinity…."

She flinched at the sound of her name, but he waited before taking it further.

"… Answer me," He could feel himself shake, a lump rising in his throat, empathetic torture once again, contagious, "What does he mean?" He growled lowly.

But Trinity remained silent, and tucked her face away. Envy's grin grew wider on the face of the teenage mask, twisted into a cruel and sadistic joy that spoke of true malignance in the narrowing of golden eyes, "Exactly as I said, he's right here!"

In that next moment, he rolled an under-arm throw, and tossed something from his blood-sodden prosthetic. In the moments after that, all Roy could see were flashes of red, until the mass of something hit the floor, and in the last couple of bounces, stopped in front of him. There in front of him was nothing more than a large lump of deep red flesh, grizzled at the edges, clearly stolen with a malicious intent. Roy stared at it, stuck within the flails of disbelief that played upon his face, and yet, the proof was right there in front of him. For once, this was not an act of deception.

_No… he couldn't be…!_

Agent Smith stepped forward then, and paused before the flesh. He then took a hold of his earpiece, and wrapped it around his right ear, soon after pressed his finger onto it…. A smile began to form on his lips in a singular moment of triumph, before he replaced his shades on his face in an act of solemnity, the smile now nowhere to be seen. His mask had been replaced, almost in keeping with a form of respect and reverence never before prefigured in a machine of his status. Some might have accused him of lowering himself before human meat, but for a man of legend, he was glad to do it, especially when his triumph over the delusion of such a legend had now been affirmed.

'I see…. Goodbye… Mr Anderson.'

-/\*_;)(-

The alleyway broke into the street ahead of her, opened itself up to the crash of stormy weather as she met its end. The rain carried on its endless assault, and as the winds grew in strength, an old woman was sent into disarray as she trifled with her letters. She only had a worn, black umbrella to beat away the rain, just askew in the crook of her arm, and just beyond her, the mailbox she'd been searching for.

Jue called out through the wind's howl, 'Pardon me,' and as she met the mailbox, the old woman let out a startled cry, as she stepped aside into the steely cold, released her hold on her thick-rimmed glasses.

'I'm sorry. I was in my own little world.' The old woman smiled apologetically, but Jue didn't waver in her focus on the mailbox, tugged up the metal shutter. 'Is it important?' She asked, smiling in earnest.

'Very.' And in that moment, she dropped the message inside – now it was up to the Matrix to deal with it.

'I hope it gets where it's supposed to go.' She brought her letters and umbrella close to her chest, kept them from being snatched away by another gust of wind.

'Me too.' The perks of a hopeful smile traced her lips.

'These days you never know.'

'No.' Jue brought her eyes to meet the old woman's glance, found her reflection, unevenly replicated by the old woman's glasses. Her real eyes were a mist, and for such an age, were a far cry from curable. 'You never do.' She seemed momentarily lost in them, and slowly receded to what bliss the woman might have found, living a fulfilled life, never being responsible for or aware of war. But, that would mean giving into the delusions, and so, with one word of goodbye, she turned away from her.

'Goodbye.' The old woman returned it forlornly, in a sense of loss that couldn't be restored. Whatever fulfilment she had experience before, it was only fleeting, and this experience could only be described as genuine contact, lost as soon as it had begun. That was the curse of the Matrix, one she would never be fully aware of, but she missed it all the same.

Jue carried on in her retreat, slid her cell phone out from the press of her pocket, and drew it to her ears with each moment she neared the alleyway – a ring issued from it.

-/\*_;)(-

It couldn't be suppressed any longer, and from the twisted grin that beheld all sadistic revelry came a loud laugh of joyous mirth that bounced from the walls with all of its exuberance, head raised high, as if belting it out for the whole world to hear, for the whole of the Matrix to stare at wondrously and with an accepted state of confusion, and for the Real World witnesses to lament with grief-stricken cries and despairing whimpers. The death of their legend, their saviour, prompted by a singular inhuman force; even the Agents are inhuman, but they had yet to claim ownership of ending the life of the One – would they ever?

Roy's gaze had grown wide, lost within the illusion the red flesh might have created, frozen in disbelief, seized within the possibility… _his _flesh, his blood, poured out on the murderer stood before them in an absolute prison of uncontainable ecstasy, who wore the face of a friend, a One of a different realm altogether. Suddenly, those eyes and their pure metal were being demeaned to cheap change, to represent a cursed existence that was easily sullied with age and dirt – someone who revelled in destruction, who would cause it, and do so gladly.

He shook himself then, broke free of the mesmerisation of the meat and the combination of its form that once brought life.

_No…! He would never be killed so easily…!_

'No….' A simple word from a man who had so far used none – staring up at him, Roy found his body had ceased trembling, its expression of pain, to leave a dent in his resistance, now irreversible. 'It can't be….' His voice croaked from a dry mouth, and his body began to shake again, this time from the inner torment of a fractured faith, and despair that might prove the event to be a true contribution to history.

_Dammit… he's starting to crack!_

"Stop laughing!" Roy shouted suddenly, sent an echo over the uproar, for it to end as abruptly as it had begun, "Like hell he's dead!" Roy screamed at Envy, for the monster to stare back at him with a pious smirk that immediately discredited every word that came from the man's mouth. "Like hell you could kill him! I refuse to believe he would give you the chance!"

"You still doubt?!" Envy grinned, giggled at the man's disbelief, "His blood is all over me! His heart's by your feet! What more do you want?!" laughed, "Here!" thrust a hand to him, "You can taste it if you like!" As if in demonstration, he brought a blood-sodden finger to his lips, and with closed lids, drew it along his out-stuck tongue, for a blush to form, for a luscious moan of triumph to curl as he swallowed his prize. "Mmm… sacred…."

"You bastard!" Roy screamed, struggled in fighting-fits beneath his bonds, "He isn't-! He would never-!"

Agent Smith stepped forward then, and as his muffled footsteps cut them to silence, their gazes remained fixed on him, and they took in a hard-to-contain sneer, 'He's dead, Colonel Roy Mustang, and yet you still doubt… why is that?' He threw a level glance at them, a fractional tilt of his head as though to evaluate him through sight alone and a new perception, 'Is it because you've started to… _believe _he's the One? Is that why you doubt?' A smirk started to perk on his lips, 'It's funny that doubt and belief should co-exist so… _coherently_. Clearly, you're not like other Redpills, or indeed, other humans of your kind.'

"It's not that I started to _believe_." Roy growled, wary that the Agent might draw closer, "For all I know, he might not be the One at all. But, for the time I've known him, as a _human being_, he's a man capable of many things. That's why… I doubt… because I _doubt _he would let any one of you kill him so easily!"

"And why do you think I look like the pipsqueak, hm?" Roy twisted his head towards Envy, who made a sweeping motion of himself, and Roy bared his teeth, held the gaze long enough to take in the sight of the form, "Ask yourself, how can he be the 'One' when he fell for a simple trick like this?!" Envy's throat bounced into a chuckle, he covered his mouth to contain the welling mirth, to maintain any kind of control on the situation, and all sounds of laughter dissolved into hyena hisses.

Trinity stared at Envy, her mouth gaped at his words, his mirth that had foretold a truth in them – laughter didn't always mean they were joking, that it would herald the formation of lies.

Roy stared at her, and then towards Envy, glared at him through the corner of his eyes, "Explain", he hissed, as Envy's mirth began to wane.

Envy shut his eyes, and pulled his arms up into a shrug, as though happy to reveal himself, "He thought I was his _precious_ Edward, and when I came running in there, I made out like the pipsqueak actually _loved _him!" He started laughing then, snorted as he gripped his sides, "Honestly, when I started making googly eyes at him, you should've seen his face! He looked like he believed it himself!" He started to hunch over, grinned widely in genuine childish humour, his brows knitted, his eyes dampened. "Man, him? The ONE?! He was no easier to kill than a BUG!"

Trinity's eyes widened, and in a gasp, covered her mouth, as if she had heard the news for the very first time, or just as much, as though realising a mistake had been made.

'Is this true…?' She stared at him. He snapped back up straight and stared at her, the mirth drained from his face, from all sensation, and soon he too was fighting a gasp. He too was beginning to realise it, 'it was just a trick… Envy?'

He stepped back from her then, his mouth hung open as the fear formed, as her face transformed from a stunned confusion to a scornful rage that only a woman could be capable of, a terror that every man alive knew to fear.

She stepped forward to scream, "EVERYBODY!" but the word was not her own. She and Envy both stared at the door, to where the sound came from, as did everybody else. "GET DOWN!" There was a familiar grate in the words, and Trinity and Roy glared at each other from across the room in that moment of rigid silence.

Instincts kicked in. Roy kicked off from his huddled form, threw himself to the side, away from the door. He landed on his front, his head down as he grunted in pain. Trinity forced herself past Envy before he could block her, ran towards the bed, and dived over it, folded herself up as she fell down the side.

Agent Smith and Envy stared at each other in the confusion, only for the Agent's face to crease up in a look of disdain as he pressed a finger to his earpiece, to find himself stood before the door.

A small ting of something could be heard outside from within as it dropped by the door.

-/\*_;)(-

A cacophony of crashes met the air, as though from a distance, right above his head. It took hold of and shook the very structure with such force, that everything within his sight fuzzed through every shade of black, white and grey. Every clear perception was snatched away from him the instant it occurred, as though true blindness were about to set in. The very notion of it, the noises that slammed through his body forced his very soul into a state of fear he could not shake. He gripped the floor as the panic set in, clung onto a form of stabilisation, as though afraid the floor would collapse from beneath him.

Only one explosion had gone off as far as he knew – the initial bang only lasted mere seconds, but its roar of flames seemed to stretch out through millennia of time that would herald the end of him long before its own demise. It would snatch away his life, his breath – he could hardly breathe already as clouds and flecks of plaster rained down from above, and he coughed as it choked his lungs. As the sound continued to echo, a ringing started in his ears – he couldn't hear anything, but the explosion had yet to end. He had to scream through the madness, just to hear his own fear.

'WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?!'

The civilians ducked as they heard the explosion, shaken completely as passers-by huddled together in the confusion, let out uproars of screaming. In the slow revelation that it was the last of them, they turned their heads towards the hotel's ceiling; where black smoke rose into the storm curtains of the sky as the rain poured down to suppress it.

The SWAT team recovered from the chaos long enough to train their sight back onto their target, waited for the echoes to cease, for sound structural security, and within seconds the signal was given and they quickly rose from their knees in the recognition of it.

'Move, move, move! While he's distracted!' The leader called them on with a sweeping motion and his shield ready, 'Just get in and out of there! Arrest him!' The glass doors were shoved open and all poured in through the doors, ready to take up formation.

As the very bass of the explosion left Victor's chest, ceased to shake him from the very core, he managed to recover his footing, though his heart hammered with all its muscles could manage. The blood flowed fast, and as his eyes grew wider, the adrenalin flooded into every crevice of his body. Fight or flight – and in that second, opportunity!

_Now's my chance!_

He darted under the police tape; past the wide spread arms of an officer ready to catch him as curses were flung his way. But the officer was unsuccessful – he had no time to be intercepted, and neither did he stop. He slipped past the last of the SWAT team, and ran round to the sides to hide behind a pillar some way down the foyer. He'd been here so many times, visited Sarah enough that he was fluent in its whereabouts, so much so, that the SWAT didn't know where to look.

'He's making a move for the stairs!' The leader of the team called out, and from his pillar, Victor could see the scene play out. The teenager rushed madly on hands and knees towards the doors, swayed in his blind sight.

The SWAT already made to cut him off. They ran round the pillars for the door, before a line was formed before it, but before the kid could push back on his butt the other way, the line was completed. The formation was now circular, it completely surrounded him, the desk was used to make up for what numbers they didn't have on their side. But numbers no longer mattered – all around was one great black wall. Long black blobs were prone, there was no break in the line and no way of escape while long black sticks were poised for attack – they stuck out from the wall like ridged spines, keeping the beast in. They were like pawns on a chess board that moved with each taking of pieces to surround the knight, ready to take him with any diagonal motion at their disposal.

The kid scrabbled back, caught in surprise by his back hitting the desk. Now was their chance. They rushed in, while he was panicked, while all senses were too frayed to make use of the gun in his hand. One of them seized him, but still the kid thrashed around, tried to scrabble from their reach in mad rootles and enraged bawls.

'YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND! LET ME GO, BASTARDS!' He screamed, and like the knight he was, he tried to jump over the pieces before he could be fully taken with the might of the king's men. He kicked off from their chests with enough embroiled force that he flung himself over his captor's shoulder in a back flip that forced him free of their grip. But the pawns were wielded by a flexible mind, and they grouped beneath his landing. One jumped for his arm, it was seized, and the kid was pulled to the floor, into the heated group. His face was pushed into the tiles as he screamed in a violent agony, not of pain, but of frustration. 'THE CREW-! THEY'RE STILL UP THERE! SH- STOP THAT!' His wrists were pulled together, the gun quickly dislodged from his grip, and in seconds the handcuffs were on. He tried to struggle, grunted and screamed against the forces of the many, 'THEY STILL NEED ME! YOU BLIND FUCKS! YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT WE'RE UP AGAINST!'

He tried to writhe from their grip, but with a man at each side, he was forced to his feet, to walk. But still, he kicked against them, pushed and pulled them back towards the stairs with shouts and screams of effort.

'He's not going to go quietly.' One of the team growled. Another of the team pulled out their baton in response. The kid bucked, struggled just to break free. But without arms to fight them, he was fighting a losing battle. He stopped suddenly, and fell to his knees. It was over the instant the weapon was brought across his head, and he slumped to the floor in abrupt repose.

They carried onto the door with the kid slung over a shoulder. Then, Victor made a move for the desk, ducked out from his hiding-pillar and ran for the foyer's centre line. The description given by the leader was fitting; female, Caucasian, unconscious. He neared closer with every second; the pool formed beneath, and grew larger in sight as it trailed from the centre of blonde tresses.

_Please… for the love of God… please don't let this be Sarah!_

He skidded down to his knees beside her, and as he huffed to catch his breath, he shook her shoulders firmly.

'Hey, wake up!' He didn't assume a name, he didn't dare – he didn't want to try his luck, 'Come on!'

'Hey! Get out of there!' Behind him, a loud call, 'The building's not safe!' directed at him, he knew that, 'Are you listening, kid?' but he didn't acknowledge it. Instead, he pulled up on her shoulder, and brought her face up for air from the crush of the cold tiles.

He only had to glance to know who it was, and he let go immediately as his vision started to fade. The calling grew closer, but that didn't stop the pain in his head from thrumming to the forefront of all feeling. The tap of footsteps got closer, reached behind him, but he didn't look back. Something caught under his arms, tried to drag him back, but the loud shouting grew mute, the body before him grew smaller. He couldn't react as the darkness grabbed a hold of him this time and forced him into sinking, down, down, further until he couldn't tell who he was anymore.

_Is this… death…?_

Whether he was thinking about the shrinking corpse or himself, he couldn't even tell.

-/\*_;)(-

A loud crash like the drums of God – it was the last thing they heard before it rippled outwards, before a wave of destruction overtook them, before they were inevitably caught within the rush.

The door was torn from the hinges. The brick of the wall blew outwards in a circular radius, fuelled by the flames that powered on behind them. The scorching heat epitomised the deafening chaos, and in one blow Envy was immediately consumed within the swelling ball.

Agent Smith was swept away by the door and carried off his feet in the current with the strength of a run-away train.

Roy was picked up with the force, whipped up into a ball in a free-fall that wouldn't let go. He knew he was screaming, could feel it echo and rip from his throat, but his ears rung and it took all of his strength to be heard above the madness.

The Agent's body, carried by the burning wood of the door, slammed into Morpheus. He was torn free from his seat as it splintered, free from the heart monitor, free from his bonds as the ropes burned up in the flames. He was rolled out at an angle, and fell on his side by the wall.

Every piece of furniture lost their roots to the floor, but whether only momentarily, or for as long as they were held together, the chaos wouldn't let it be known. The fire spread then to the wood. The mattress and its sheets were lit up as the bed slammed itself up to the wall, before its legs banged to the floor again.

As his back met the wall opposite, his breath was knocked out with it, and then he hit the floor. His senses were knocked out of whack. He could hardly support himself. He felt the burning sensation at his wrists and ankles; both prickled with a sharp heat that crawled alive and stung, but time stole away the chance to soothe the thriving venom.

Laid out just beside him, Morpheus had lost all hold of consciousness. He could only stare weakly towards the man, bruised, blackened until he couldn't see anything – the electricity had flicked out above them and ceased to function. They were left in darkness.

More rubble fell from the wall where the bomb had dropped – the whole of it had been taken out. But in the darkness, though the drums had ceased to beat, there still remained creaks from above, from structures bowing from the loss of support.

With weak eyes, he stared upwards, and coughed between the clouds of smoke that flooded the room itself where the fires still burned. It lit all that he could see with a cordial glow, flickered against the cracks forming in the ceiling, splintered this way and that, split into a multitude of forks.

_The roof will…! _

He turned his gaze to Morpheus, still unconscious, and breathed in the heavy smoke in deep inhalations. The ceiling started to collapse, brick and tile rained amongst all that had survived, brought with it torrents of rain and the crashes of thunder that added to the maelstrom of destruction that played out. Clouds of plaster raised high into the air, but were soon suppressed by the press of rain on them. It beat out the flames, and left nothing but a room full of debris, smoke and silence.

Nothing seemed to exist anymore and all were forced to obey the laws of silence. Right now, only the true forces of nature could have any say, and it was that alone that stole away the pervading darkness. As lightning struck, crashes of thunder fought to fill the synapse of silence, and the whole room was lit up with an electrifying majesty. It rang out amongst them amidst the thunder like a wave that bid farewell.

-/\*_;)(-

She stepped on through the alley as the rain tore down from the sky. Maybe now was the time to relax, now that the message had been given a chance to reach its destination. That's why she stepped on in slow degrees, the cell phone pressed to her ear as the dull ring filled her mind. Even amongst the drum of the storm she could be assured, that even with a faint whisper, she could be heard by her deliverers.

'Thaddeus.'

-/\*_;)(-

The smoke settled from the air of the hall, defeated by the water of the sprinklers, brought into action by the flames that he had recklessly created. It seeped into his wounds, with the stinging mix of salty rain water – all electrical functions were brought to a complete stand-still. He could only make out the mottled greys of sky-light, and the flashes of lightning, followed by an explosion of sound, but nothing more.

He pushed himself up from the ground, sputtered a cough from the force of the bomb's kick-back and the smoke still left in the air. Rolling forward onto his knees, he caught the glimpses of a pile of rubble ahead among the puddles that formed around him. All of it was a marker for the wall that had been laid to waste.

His eyes widened, blind panic swelled into the flare that burned in his chest. His mouth hung open – he barely remembered to breathe.

_No…! I-If they're in there…!_

He kicked off towards the destruction in a quick limp; ground his teeth against the pain where the wound rubbed against the fabric of the strap.

_Please…! Let them be ok…!_

With all force on his side, he stood at the room's gaping mouth. Each jaw was edged with jagged pieces of rubble as though in threat to the intruder. But he didn't heed it, and rested beside it to catch his breath, gulped as he stared on into the darkness.

A blaze lit up the room, poured out from the open ceiling where the rubble had fallen in the blast. He scanned along the ruins, the mess he had made, and found blackened walls that might crumble into charcoal at any moment, scraps of splintered wood that stuck out from the brick, scorched by the flames. To his left, the bed was pressed against the opposite wall, and all light and view from the window opposite had been snuffed out by a wooden door, embedded in the brick and plaster. But it was at his right where the rubble had piled up the most, and formed a large mound, where he could only distinguish broken clay and otherwise maintained brick.

_Let them be ok…!_

With a cupped mouth, "Is anyone in here?!" he called out into the dark abyss of what he had deconstructed, "Hey!" He called out again, for it to be blighted by the thunder. "Can you hear me?!" This time as the thunder waned behind the drum of rain, but nothing had surfaced so far.

_Don't tell me they're…!_

Then, a knock of rubble – chinks where it had been pushed aside. He scanned for the sound, heard it again, found its origin to his left. Between another flash, he saw something, the push of rubble at the mouth of the bed – a dirty hand, making way for a black head to peek from beneath its hiding place.

He ran to it, tripped over lumps of brick, held out a hand as he fell to his knees. It grasped tightly, with a shaking desperation. He kicked the rubble away for room, and with little effort, the form was pulled free. She raised her head, his hand released as she flinched at the familiar face. She backed up against the bed. He tried to grab for her hand, but she quickly pulled it away. In tearful quivers, she placed her hand on a lump of brick, and brought it over her head in threat.

"Trinity, what are you-?!" He tried to grab hold of her arm, the one that brandished its weapon as she shook through the tears.

'Let go of me!' She screamed, 'You… You can't fool me!' She threw it down. He raised his defence, it bounced off his prosthetic. Moving forward, he seized both of her arms, and pressed them to her sides.

"Trinity! Look at me!"

She flinched, tried to look down from his gaze, but he shook her hard, stared into her, held her tight, "It's me!" She stared back with wide eyes, until, as a gasp escaped, so did her resistance. Her body released the tension that had taken hold, and in a sigh, he let her go.

'I thought…' She breathed, 'I thought you were Envy.'

"Don't worry…." He smiled softly, "I'm not…" and in its recognition, she returned it, but only momentarily.

'But,' she frowned then, 'if you're Ed then….' Her brow drew inwards, liberating a clear rage, 'why did you throw that bomb?! You could've-!'

More chinks, another shift of rubble tumbled behind them. Edward turned quickly to face it, glared as the dull light shone on the fallen brick that skidded down from the mound.

"Roy?!" He called out to him. He didn't waste time getting over there, headed for the disturbance.

'Morpheus!' Trinity called out from behind Edward's rescue efforts and together, they stumbled towards the mound, tripped over the debris that caught their feet, but they didn't stop. Even as they crawled on hands and knees they made every effort to reach them. They threw the rubble back, shifted it aside in mad digs, shoved away as much as they could with what strength they had.

More rubble fell independently and tumbled down to their knees – their efforts grew stronger, they threw more aside, until they could make out the illumination of a black-clad back as it began to rise on the steeples of its arms. It coughed from the clouds of plaster than rose in its ascension, raised its head, and with eyes full of weak focus, scanned between them. He smiled then, and coughed again with the smoke. His face was smeared with dirt and dust, red smatters of blood trailed through the grime of his temple, from the clogged strands of black hair at his crown. The structures of his arms shook weakly, but he held himself, and in that, Edward couldn't help but smile, and let a wash of relief take over.

"Edward," Roy murmured before he coughed again, but he retained a wavering smile, "Is it really you?"

"Yeah," he nodded simply, but his face twisted into concern, "where's Morpheus?"

"Here," Roy frowned, motioned below. Trinity moved forward then, and shoved Edward aside. He was there beneath him, lying between the protecting steeples, his head snug within a cavern that Roy's chest had formed. But in his repose he had yet to open his eyes, to come back to them. "He lost consciousness after the bomb hit," he frowned, "I-", he sputtered a cough, "I had to protect him somehow. He would've been crushed in the rubble otherwise, so I tried to at least protect his vitals."

Trinity brought through two fingers, pressed them to Morpheus' neck, before she splayed them over his mouth, 'He's still breathing, but we won't know the full extent of the damage until he's been unplugged.' Trinity growled with more effort as she threw more rubble off his abdomen, trying her best to unbury him. 'Morpheus?' She called out to him, her hand found his cheek, and he groaned softly from the sound, tossed his head in slow motions before his eyes fell open.

'Trin…?' He moaned dryly, coughed, scrunched his face and heaved for breath.

'Yes,' she chuckled softly in her relief, 'it's me. Listen, we're going to get you out of here, ok?'

In another flare of momentary illumination, he caught sight of a scarlet brilliance within the electric light, from the corner of his eyes to his right. He frowned as his gaze was redirected from Morpheus to the blood that trailed from the juncture of Roy's neck and shoulder. It was smeared in shining prominence as it leaked down his arm and chest, a bright river between the scuffs of dirt islands. Roy caught his gaze, and smirked.

"It's nothing, Ed." Roy coughed within his half-managed laugh, "It'll heal, but right now there are more important things to worry about."

"Right," Edward nodded, tried to return it.

The rubble was still caught in an incessant cycle of crumbling, and it fell into the mounds behind, tumbled to rest, and sent up chinks of a collective sound that would pull more down later, so much so that in the after-math of chaos, it was regular, and left unacknowledged. Roy was right at least: they had more important things to worry about, and though still beneath the rubble, Morpheus was their one priority.

'Morpheus, can you get up?' Trinity called out to him, watched as his frown flickered into a nod, and though responsive, the weight of the drug kept them from opening. She started to shove away more rubble, and Edward followed suit, helped her in small degrees to dig him out from beneath the debris. 'Try and sit up, we need to get you out.'

Shifting some of the rubble from his legs and abdomen, Roy managed to pull his legs in from beneath him, and in doing so grabbed a hold of Morpheus' shoulders. He pushed him up then, brought him up to become Morpheus' back support as the older man's head lolled, dazed still by the collision. Trinity grasped a hold of his right hand, and fed the arm over her shoulder, and held him steady.

'Do you think you can stand?' She asked, her voice calm in his ear, but he didn't answer.

Neither was he given a chance to. Something cocked behind them, and as they turned, they came face-to-face with a gun; the black of the barrel was right on them, with no gap or mercy in its aim. Lightning flashed through the room, and just metres away, Agent Smith was stood before them, holding the gun – even the Matrix could not make him abide by the laws of fatality mere mortals are forced to obey – he had his own.

'None of you…' His barrel made a slow round, pointed at each and every head in an inclusion of their fate, ascertained if they chose to defy him, '… will be going anywhere.' emphasised with a slow, stilted voice. 'You see, I was angry before…' he growled then, his stare penetrated through the steely gazes that the crew tried to maintain, but their attempts were flagging from exhaustion, the toll on their bodies, '… but now I am _pissed_!'

Roy flinched, the rage ebbed towards the surface of the machine's face; he'd already seen the consequences of what such a being when enraged could be.

'I need the codes to the Zion mainframe,' he carried on in a calmer tone, the effect of which was worrying, 'but in order to acquire them, I need Morpheus, and I will have _none _of you standing in my way. Now,' and with his barrel still concentrated on the group, he flicked it in a motion, in a bid of sweeping them away, 'stand aside, or I'll kill him.' and the barrel found Morpheus' head.

They all looked to each other, helpless as their Captain sank between the brink of sleep and consciousness. But, no matter how they tried to delay the inevitable, it wouldn't be long now. Drugs and time had already been injected into the process of acquisition – any longer and he would simply crack like any other pressurised computer, mindlessly revealing all secrets, anything that could be of use to the machines. It was an outcome they simply couldn't allow. But, he was also their Captain, their guardian and their friend; without him, the ship would be lost, and their lives would be empty. The Resistance would still go on without him, and it would not waylay them completely, but to sacrifice his life for the lives of Zion, and even to value it against the millions that the Resistance protected – it was becoming an equation that grew increasingly difficult to solve; two values slowly equalising.

'Stand _aside_.' Agent Smith repeated between ground teeth, his gun still trained on its targets, unwilling to subside.

Trinity screwed her eyes shut, her chest heaved and she shook in a silence frustration. But, as she let a breath escape, she slowly released Morpheus' arm, and let it slip into his lap. She glared at him then, forced a nod, and helplessly Roy could only give into the resignation. Both started to creep back, and in their retreat, Roy slowly set Morpheus down on his back. Edward glared back at them, his mouth gaped as both detracted their aid and distance from Morpheus, making for the wall with hands above their heads, a mark of surrender universal to all who were prepared for it.

Edward frowned as he stared back to Agent Smith, whose gaze trailed the retreating pair to the boy before him. He found a barrel staring back, unshaken as the face behind it, unyielding.

"No!" Edward growled, "Like you said, we're not going anywhere!"

"Edward," Roy seethed through bared teeth, "put down the gun! You can't win this, Ed, we've already lost." But his plea was lost on Edward as he didn't turn round to face him. All focus was on the Agent.

"You wouldn't kill him!" Edward smirked, "You need him for information!" but the Agent was hardly fazed.

'Then you _clearly _don't know the situation.'

Edward balked then, but tried to harden his resolve, "What do you-!" He ground his teeth, pressed his aim closer, "Of course I do! You want the codes, you said so yourself!"

'Yes, but it's only a matter of time before one of two outcomes transpire from this.' He held up his hand in demonstration, held up a finger, 'Either I get the codes,' before he held up another, 'or Morpheus dies in the process.' He dropped his hand, his aim on Morpheus never wavered, 'if the latter were to occur, then it wouldn't be the end of everything; all Captains of Zion hold the codes, and there's more than one Captain, more than enough. It's… _inevitable_ that one will slip up, if not now, then somewhere down the line.' A sneer twisted into his lips, and the very sight of it disgusted them, 'It's already certain – I _will _get the codes, no matter the provider, so if you want to make it easier on yourselves, then I suggest you hand over your Captain now.'

"Who said it had to be a Captain?!" Edward thrust up another gun, shot the Agent's hand, who dropped his weapon. As he nearly fell back, Edward was up on his feet, two guns trained on the Agent.

'You seem to think you have the advantage.' The Agent growled, tightened his knuckles into a bone-white grip that issued cracks.

"Yeah, pretty much." Edward smirked, "Trust me, it doesn't matter _what_ you do to Morpheus," Edward's face screwed up into a look of determination; "you're _not _getting the codes!"

'And you think two guns are an advantage against us?' The Agent frowned, 'your survival is of no concern to me, so if you value your life, then I suggest you run while you still have it.' Agent Smith narrowed his eyes.

"Then _you_ clearly don't know the situation _either_!" Edward screamed, his guns still poised, "Neo! Now!"

As sudden silence stretched between them, and all waited on some grand entrance, some reverent mercenary to blaze through the gaping mouth of the room. Bullets will stream through the rain to enter the body of the Agent, for him to live up to the legend that many hundreds of years of history had already prescribed to him.

But that was not meant to be. There were already many in the room who knew better, except for the One stood before the Agent. His guns were still poised as he waited on a wave of distraction.

He hadn't expected the legend either, he hadn't counted on it, but if the Agent didn't know that, then a second of distraction was all he needed to get the upper hand. But, that distraction never came; instead, the Agent stared at him widely in what might be described, as close as any machine might express, as a dumb look, but neither was he fooled.

Edward cursed himself.

Agent Smith frowned, 'was there a point to that?'

Edward just stared, his mouth gaped – his bluff had been called.

_Dammit, why did I think that would work?! What was I thinking?!_

'Roy, what is he-?' Trinity glared at Roy, a look of confusion came over her face.

"He doesn't know," Roy scowled, "he must've plugged in before-."

"Before what?!" Edward screamed. The panic was setting in, his were still fixed on the Agent, "What's going on?!"

"Neo's dead!" A grate of laughter filled the room. Before he could react, a kick went up into his arms, his guns dropped in the shock. He twisted round to face the attack, but he was grabbed by the prosthetic and, with an over-flow of strength, he was wrenched into the air, thrown like a marionette, twisting. His back hit the rubble, the force sent him skidding into the jags, a scream went up as he hit the brick, as the tight holster came loose, and the pressure released the choked flow of blood.

He tried to push himself up onto his elbows, to be ready in retaliation, but with a grunt he felt a twist in his auto-mail, a bubble of pressure as though something in his nerves wasn't feeding through. He could hardly rely on his right arm now, and as he supported himself on his left, he stared up at his attacker, and saw nothing but darkness.

"I killed him!" The feminine voice announced above, "And do you want to know how?!"

A blaze of lightning, brilliant electricity, and the illuminated face pressed so close to his that he could see the very core of their golden eyes – they relished the sight of the One that cowered below.

"Boo!" The face cackled with his victim's voice, mimicked without flaw. Edward screamed on its recognition, and tried to crawl away from it. He cried out in agony then, the other's knee had found his leg wound, and had him trapped there on a temporary pressure, but one that inspired distress and anguish rather than a need to stop the bleeding. "Such an exquisite death!" The smile twisted into such a grin that only he could find pleasure in, alight at the thought of destruction, such that he would feel every heart bleed in the room with pain and sorrow, and laugh knowing that _he'd _caused it. "So _easy_!" He sneered then, and pressed harder on the wound, "He was nothing but a _fool_!"

"LIAR!" Edward screamed, but flailed and writhed as more of Envy's weight was pushed down onto his leg, "HE CAN'T BE-! YOU'RE LYING!"

'He's not!'

He strained to hear the voice, swallowed back his pain, shook and gasped as he took in the high and quivering notes.

"Trinity…?" Edward huffed, and his eyes screwed shut between the waves of pain that coursed through his thigh.

'I was there, Edward,' the voice was quieter then, wavered in the well of tears that gurgled through, 'I-I watched him….'

Edward gaped at the ceiling as the voice descended into choked tears, merged with the rain's heavy drum, a track of sound that seemed to pour from the deep grey clouds themselves. The thunder rumbled behind them, roared through every part of him, to beckon forward a face to surface from within his mind, from behind the camouflage of the clouds, to be sat there before him. The rain tried to act against him, and sent down their cold stings to wash away the memory, to bring relief, but it did nothing to choke down the lump that welled in his throat.

With wide eyes, he saw him there; clearly, a frown set in his face as Edward's own voice, conjured by his mind, asked him a question.

_Would you cry?_

… _Men don't cry._

Came his answer, but his past self couldn't let that be the end of it.

_Families cry._

He couldn't stop the lump from rising further still, and it pushed the tears over the brink of his lids, to be quickly washed away by the rain, lost, but as real as the water that dragged them down his cheeks. Another question soon followed – he wanted to force it out of his mind, so that he wouldn't have to hear it, even more so the answer, but his past self was no longer afraid to ask it, not now that the topic had met the air.

… _So, would you cry over me?_

Neo, a solid figure in his mind and memory, hung over the deep grey canvas, and grinned.

_Yeah, but you have to cry over me too, or I'll think you're a crappy brother._

He wrenched up his left leg then, inflicted a grunt from his opponent, and with the same leg, kicked him back. The weight on his thigh loosened, with it came freedom, and though spasms of pain went through his leg, he got to his feet in a slow effort. The tears were pouring now down his face as he huffed for breath, teeth bared as he fought to stand up straight. They were becoming lost in the rain, as before, but this time, he was the One stood over Envy, the One who would who could not let him succeed, not after the monster had saw fit to carry out such monstrosity.

"You… _bastard_!" Edward breathed, ground his teeth into the burn of his wound and the agony that flared as he crouched lower. But he ignored it, as well as the numb sensation that bubbled in his prosthetic, and he rose that arm as high as he could manage as he raised the other. Before them was a boy on the outskirts of manhood, adopted a pose so familiarly connected to his bluepill days, but in him now was a new anger, a new ferocity never before seen in a once mere 'hothead'. Even Roy, as the bright azure light of the sky illuminated the stance, could tell there was something more to his fight, that not even _he _had recognised in the boy before. No, not even a boy, already a man. He was no longer fighting for his own life, but for the life of another, with such an abandon that losing his own hardly mattered.

It was there in the fire of his golden orbs, ones Roy knew only too well, and he stared in such a way that a gasp escaped his lips.

_Ed…._

"You bastard! You killed him! You're the reason he's dead!" Edward screamed, "How could you?!"

"What can I say," Envy was soon on his feet, grinned in a mimicry of the man's form, shrugged with indifference, "he was such an easy target! I couldn't miss out on an opportunity like that, now could I?"

"An opportunity?! You coward!" Edward's face twisted into rage, "You couldn't even face him yourself! Instead you used _my _face!" pointed to it, "And killed him in cold-blood! How can you justify that as an opportunity?!"

"What's to justify?" Envy smirked, "Just to hear those screams, feel the blood on my skin, to see the look on his face as his _precious _Edward killed him, that's all the justification I needed." He grinned widely then, in mischief, "He loved you, you know," and stepped forward; Edward flinched back from his oncoming opponent, but held his stance.

"Stay back!" His voice rose into high caution, "I mean it!" steeled his resolve.

"Precious _little, _lovely Edward." Envy crooned, and before Edward knew it, Envy's hand was caressing his cheek; his face pressed close, "Didn't he _mean _something to you? Hm?" Envy grinned, his eyes half-mast.

Edward gritted his teeth at the cold, wet touch of the steel that pricked at his skin, and stared down at the other's gaze, "… of course he did." He seethed.

Trinity could only stare, and her gaze steadily widened with each second that transpired. Her mouth fell open in a quivering look of utter defeat, where there was nothing she could do to change the words that had filtered into the air, that past that had caused their arrival, and her tears welled with his.

"Such _loyalty_, even in death, he would be so _proud_." Envy's voice rose in the swell of the croon, for all to hear, with the very hopes that they would.

"Like you can speak for him!" Edward snapped, swiped the hand away, "You don't know him at all! He was like family! Like a…." But his voice trailed away at the thought of the word that might follow his statement, and he hesitated, stuttered to find a term that was worthy of the One they'd lost.

"A what?" Envy's grin widened, "A lover?"

"Edward backed away, eyes wide as he balked, "What?! N-NO!"

Trinity glared in the face of Edward's denial, and found a child intent on covering their tracks at the idea of the punishment that would follow if they didn't, and they would hesitate in their naïve attempts to hide their guilt, afraid that what they had denied might in fact be true. Trinity couldn't face the fear either, the truth of the denial, and hoped to some higher being that the darkness would hide her from the others.

A jolt went through Roy's heart, a pang, a sudden shock and crush of feeling that he hardly expected of himself, that in another turn, the denial was meant for him…! Now that was something he _didn't _expect, and he tried to shake the sudden free-fall of crushing disappointment away, while it still didn't have a definite hold on him, while the clog of a metaphorical bullet could still be removed, if only for the meantime.

_What am I-? That doesn't matter right now!_

"We're not like that!" Edward seethed.

"Hmph, _he _tried to deny it too." Envy laughed, "But you can't _both _be right now, can you?"

"Shut up!" Edward screamed, "I'm sick of playing games with you!" He moved to swipe away that cackle that bounced from Envy's throat, his hand cut through the air as Envy jumped back out of radius. "You killed him! And you're not getting away with it! Not this time!"

"Is that a threat?!" Suddenly, Envy threw a kick his way, span round, twisted into it, before the foot struck Edward's face. He was knocked off his feet as he fell into the weight of his wounded thigh, skidded down into the rubble. He tried to push himself up, spat blood on his ascent, and narrowed his eyes on Envy as another flash of lightning coursed through. "You know what, you're right! Just hearing you blabber is making me impatient! No more words!" Envy grinned, "If you're really so eager to die, then who am I to deny you that, hm?!" He relaxed his stance then, eyes set right on Edward in a look of mocking, "Come on. Give it your best shot." He smirked, "I want to see some _real _life before you die!"

He couldn't bear the look any longer, and with a grounded resolve he kicked off from the brick. He charged forward with all he had, screamed as the gap between them closed, and a fist was thrown forward. It sliced through the air with what could be his last bout of strength.

Author's Note: Hello again, I know I usually publish on a Saturday, and that usually I wait until the last chapter has gained a review before I publish the latest, but with this being the 2nd of the three part installation, I thought I'd ignore that policy.

Now, I realise that, with the recent Boston Marathon bombings, this chapter is actually quite sensitive to recent cultural events. If this chapter did bring to mind the terrible events of the Bombings, then I sincerely apologise. I will say though, that the chapter was not written with the bombings in mind, but this plot point was figured out long before the bombings took place. In fact, it's only a couple of days since that I realised I would have to post an apology like this. This chapter was not, in any way, written with the intention to shock, traumatise, or bring up awful past memories – I would never force that on anyone. Thank you, and I hope I am afforded some forgiveness in light of this.

Ophelia Davis


	24. Awake And Alive Part 3

Author's Note: I know it's taken me a long time to get this done, but here is the last chapter of the arc. It's taken me so long to finish because of other commitments, such as University, moving house, finishing an art commission – it's been a very hectic few months for me. Even after this chapter is uploaded, there'll be more to attend to. I don't intend to give up on the fanfiction, although I would like to use some of this time to start writing an original story that I've been planning for some time. I will use this time to plan and sort through the next chapters after this one. In light of the hiatus then, this chapter is extra long for you. On an unrelated topic, for those that follow the British Monarchy, congratulations are in order for the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge, on the birth of the Royal Highness, Prince of Cambridge. He'll be third in line after Prince Charles, and Prince William, his father – sorry, I'm a patriot/royalist at heart.

So with that covered, let's get on with the chapter :D

-/\*_;)(-

"_The promise given was a necessity of the past: the word broken is a necessity of the present." – _Niccolo Machiavelli

The very blankness of the realm fell behind him, as though he were floating above it into the atmosphere of an outer space, far from the light, into the breach of darkness, and into the pain of Reality. The very realisation of that was all it took, and his eyes shot open, in order to escape that which the darkness had proven itself capable of. He sat up immediately then, heaved in breaths that came full and easy. He tried to steady his mind, keep his heart from bursting out of his chest – he couldn't go through that again.

That's when he saw it. All around him, a plane of deep green clustered over an outer expanse of darkness that was kept at bay by the angles and intricacies of racing code. It formed the walls of the room, rained in a continuous flow that could not be stopped and every line passed on delicate detail and information that his eyes were no longer able to ignore. Truly, his eyes had been opened; he could see past the blurred shades of the Matrix, stare into the code that constructed its entire existence, to unlock its secrets, like his own, etched into the code of his own mural and gateway.

Cold refreshing water poured down from the ceiling above, dripped down in an acid light within which each drop must've contained the spark of existence itself – life-giving water in its truest form. Each little drop fell into the bright puddle beneath him, and added order to the chaos of code, becoming a jumble of two different substances, as far as he could make out. One of hydrogen and oxygen, that's what their coding stood for, and carried a neutral feeling. But, the other was unmistakeable and followed a different set of code patterns, not only encoded in the pool, but in the very core of himself. He could see it, intricate little nuances of all that was him. Then the smell rose, mingled with a weak metallic tang that was all too familiar – blood, he was sitting in a pool of his own blood.

There was a sudden flash of pain, a remembrance of it as it coursed through his chest and dragged him down into a debilitating devastation of agony, and his hand immediately pressed to the left of his chest. Through the rip in the fabric of his shirt, he felt nothing but soft skin, wet with the rain, hot with sweat. But as the illuminated code of flourishing, overflowing life crawled over him in a speed that mirrored his own pulse, he found no break or injury in him, no gap of penetration that shouldn't be. Life was as fresh and new as it was when he was first unplugged, and he could begin again.

But neither could he forget who had stolen away the life of before, who had attempted to ruin him completely, who tried with all manipulative airs to steal Trinity away from him, all but succeeding. He heard her soft cries echo into his ears in what he hoped would be far from the final time.

_N-Neo… please… you can't die… I love you… please… don't be-!_

That monster had tried to hurt her, use her to its own ends, that much he could tell. It had sent her into a fit of desperation that hardly befitted all that she was and was meant to be: a well of strength, hope, guarded discipline that came down only for him. His face creased inwards then, into an ache of newly used muscles, tight and bound with an overflowing energy yet to be spent on the next endeavour. New pain, new frustration, it swelled into a lava fountain from the very pit of his stomach, erupted into his chest and as it reached the very peak of its radius, expelled from his mouth in a rage that tore from his throat.

'ENVY!' His murderer's name echoed around him, directed a rift through the coded walls with the very force of its owner's transgressions. He couldn't sit there any longer, and he flew into action. He left the floor with such a speed, that his feet never touched the ground beneath.

-/\*_;)(-

With every second, the darkness recoiled from the fog of his sight, and uncovered the shadows where bright flashes of light ebbed through with each slow slide that his eyes fell open, for them to shut again on a thunderous roar. But he was loathed to be defeated, and gravity acted on the midst of colour, opened to it, and brought with it the crashes and thuds of a heated battle not far from his perception. With every flicker of movement before him, the blur and shades lost their whorls, sharpened beyond the solidity of the darkness, and brought forth an uproar. Within it, the leather squeak of traded blows, the grunts as they were taken, the rain that seized the silence of the fight, and the crash of rocks as one was received into the jagged embrace. The crash seemed to reverberate as, behind him, he felt a shift that ended with the call of a voice.

"Morpheus?" His whole body had become a victim of the weight. Even as he tried to move, tried to escape it, an electric current of pain went up his back. He groaned and stiffened at its sensation, screwed his eyes shut to welcome the darkness again, but only for a moment. "Morpheus!" Right behind him now and as his eyes slowly slid open, he found a pale circular blur casting an image overhead in a shrouded mask of dirt where streaks of deep scarlet overtook it, pouring out from behind the strands of black that breached the brow, and fell over dark narrow eyes, "Can you hear me?"

Morpheus answered with a heavy nod, and the flare of panic dissipated into a facet of relief, before a scowl washed it away as he spied at the pair from the bottom of his vision, blurry fighters, edged with clarity, crowned with golden beacons.

'Who's fighting…?' He murmured softly in a dry rasp, sputtered a cough at the awakening of his voice.

"Edward and Envy," a deep voice emanated from the mask, painted with a frown as he glanced up at the battle, where a curse rose into the air, as its origin too became airborne, as one beacon was extinguished from view, kicked through the jaws of the open wall, into the hall behind. Only the crash of brick could be heard afterwards. "He's taking a beating."

A coloured symphony of past scenes played through his mind, and all at once a quick-fire of pictures that confirmed what he knew for truth, and it sent his face twisting into grimace, 'He shouldn't be here…' he grounded out, to keep the symphony from tumbling out, 'I told him specifically… not to jack into the Matrix… he promised me he wouldn't….'

"It's ok," he caught sight of a smoke-traced smile that lit up the blur, "this is what we need right now. He's given us a chance, we can still win this!" now bright with enthusiasm, but to Morpheus it was a haunting prophecy that told nothing but lies, and he groaned again as he crushed his lids together.

'No… there's a lot you don't understand, Roy,' he scowled, 'we were better off… while he was outside the Matrix. Now we may lose everything… even if we survive, Zion will fall.' The blurry pool of his eyes widened, but for all it was worth, he shook his head.

"Maybe I don't understand, but they would've gotten the codes otherwise," he frowned as his voice rose to overcome the casting doubt, beating back with each decibel, "and right now, more than ever, we need the help, now that Neo…" but his words trailed, and the fight of his voice.

Morpheus' face ached with the expanse of the almost uncontainable shock; as though for the first time, before he shut his eyes to him, 'He can't be…' he breathed in a sudden sporadic heave of his chest, and his eyes remained shut. Like the hereditary blindness of the bluepills, incapable and unwilling to open themselves up to the truth of their deception, or to the notion that they were being deceived at all. 'He's the One…. He has to be…. If he's dead, then what have we left to believe in…? What has Zion been basing its hope of survival on all this time…?'

'The One is nothing more than a naïve myth,' Agent Smith sneered suddenly, and the blurred face frowned at the interruption, 'a self-deception used to create hope where there is none. The people of Zion have been basing their hopes on a saviour because they wish to blind themselves to the inevitability that they will lose the war against us, and in turn, lose everything,' from behind shades, his eyes narrowed. Right now, not even tainted glass could disguise what was beginning to emanate, 'and those who believe in it are no better than the minds that are still plugged into the Matrix. Your saviour is dead, Morpheus…. Wake up.'

The whorl of a figure ruptured his line of vision as it was thrown through the shadows behind the Agent, and crashed into the wall behind where the fuzz interspersed with the collision. Dust rose as the embers of the figure disappeared from view, but he soon picked himself up, charged through the smoke of the debris, through the rain-spattered air, and back to his opponent, into the fight.

'You'd be better off giving up now,' and the Agent stepped closer in elected oblivion, 'while you still have the volition to do so,' and with bared teeth, he growled with a menace that couldn't be challenged, 'no, hand over the codes to the Zion mainframe.'

Envy dodged beneath a swing, spun into him, and barrelled an elbow into his stomach. Edward bent over with the force, coughed before he fell back in his steps, wheezed as he clutched the blow-wound. Envy took the opportunity, kicked round at his face. Edward was knocked down onto his side, to collide with the rubble, and screeched with the scrape of his thigh.

Envy stepped forward with a casual ease, but Edward quickly recovered. He rolled onto his back and with bent legs sprung back onto his hands as he fell back, to flip back onto his feet, to wobble on the landing. A moment of weakness, and envy charged forward. Edward side-stepped, gave chase, running for the wall, Envy followed. He stopped then; bent low into a kick, and Envy ran straight into it, was sent toppling back into the bed.

But Edward trembled under the pressure of his thigh, and fell back to the floor as he gripped his wound tight. Envy regained his footing, charged forward again. Edward twisted up, but only for a second, before he was grabbed by the shoulders, and dragged back in the force. Envy had him straddled by the hips, and with force beat him across the face, one way, and then the other. Edward bucked up against him, tried to wrestle him off, was beaten again, and the blood sprayed from his mouth.

Envy's lips formed into a grin, "So is this how you play things, huh?" cackled, and in that moment Edward managed to throw a punch across Envy's face, but he wasn't deterred, "When you and Neo are alone?" He breathed as he bent low to Edward's face, "It suits you." Envy was punched the other way, but his grin widened, laughed.

"For the love of god, do you ever shut up?!" Edward screamed, pulled an arm inwards, and sent Envy rolling to his left. He found himself on top, and with the advantage seized Envy's head, pulled it back, pushed it into the jags of the debris, back, and in, back and in, but it was too late. Envy had already descended into a fit of giggles, his head now drenched in blood.

"So you like it rough, huh?" Envy's strength was too much, and he rolled himself out from beneath, finished up on top once again, too heavy to remove, "I can play that game too, you know!" Volts of scarlet healing circled his brow, lapped up the blood the debris had hacked free. With a punch from his fake prosthetic, he bludgeoned Edward's stomach. The blood came free so easily, and as Edward hunched up with the force, blood gurgled from his mouth along with the eruption of a high-pitched scream as he fell back, wenching agony from the very weight of the blow. "You see, I wasn't using my full strength before."

"Mon… ster…!" Edward seethed through blood-stained teeth, grasped Envy's forearm with a bone-white tightness.

"If only you knew." The seductive whisper pressed close into the warmth of Edward's cheek, while more force was driven into the fist that sat in the pit of his stomach, caused more blood to well, "Tut tut," Envy chuckled, "all this blood," and with a long tongue, skated it across the corner of his mouth to lap up the shining globules. Edward almost wretched in disgust, "you must be feeling pretty woozy by now, right?" Another chuckle fell from Envy's throat, almost uncontainable, "So tell me, how often would Neo lick _your _fluids?"

Edward's lips pursed with the reddening of pummelled cheeks, his eyes widened as the blush reigned supreme over the drained pallor of his face.

"You're blushing! So it _is _true!" Envy laughed, grinned with a cruel twist in his lips, "Did he _moan _your name while he-!"

He thrust a knee into his groin, the weight eased in the shock, and Envy became easy to kick aside. But as the fist came free, more blood leaked out – he lurched forward suddenly, gripped his wound tighter. Blood poured from his mouth as he writhed on his front, and he screamed high and ragged, above the roar of the thunder and the rain that pelted down, as he fought to keep the pain from tearing him in two. He could only huddle tight as an intense explosion of burning tried to consume him from within.

"That was a cheap trick." Envy groaned, but brought himself to his feet. As he watched the boy convulse and writhe, his frown creased into a smirk. The boy had fallen into fits of agony as he gripped his stomach, forced his auto-mail into the wound, to push back the burn. "But no matter, I'd say you didn't have long left anyway." He chuckled as Edward fought for control, glared into him as more blood poured from his mouth, "How does it feel, being burnt to death by acid strong enough to melt through steel, hm? Who knew that such a deadly substance lived in the human body?"

Edward groaned then in a fit of writhing, his body shook, and with each convulsion, whimpers gurgled up from his throat. His eyes traced the rubble, scanned and hoped for assistance, any sort of advantage he could grab a hold of. But he could no longer hold up his own weight, and his elbows crumpled beneath him.

"You see?! Even your own body wants you dead!" Envy cackled, "I'd take the hint if I were you! That is, if you don't want to suffer! You've only got ten minutes anyway!"

Edward gritted his teeth. His breathing eased a little, his eyes focused just out to his peripheral. He kept his prosthetic there, where it acted as a metal plug, and though the smoke rose from his hand, he steeled himself against the leaking blood. He crawled forward, reached out, and grabbed a hold of a steel pipe that poked out from the debris. He pulled himself to it, and with a tight grip, rose to his feet with shaky legs, and heaving in breath, he yanked the pipe free. Slowly, he rose the point towards Envy, poised, ready.

"So you've still got some fight left in you, hm?" He smirked, the boy before him breathed in deep heaves, hissed with the inner burn, the pipe trembled with the weight, "You must be _eager _to die! You want to see Neo so soon, is that it?!"

"Don't… misunderstand me…" Edward groaned, "We're not… like that…! And neither… am I dying here…!"

"Then I'll give you a treat before you die!" Red volts poured out from the elbow of his prosthetic, and in their light, they stroked over the forearm, around the arm-shield, and formed it with the bolts of their effort. A bright light edged the shape, as it transformed and moulded, until it finally died down, and from the sleeve, a blade protruded, sharpened at the tip. He simpered then, "With a weapon like that," and his eyes scanned the form of the pipe that shook in Edward's grip, "I'd say you can't use alchemy here, can you?"

"Doesn't mean… I can't still beat you!" Edward growled through the drum of the rain, "I don't… need alchemy… for every little thing!" He grimaced in pain then, the sting of salt-rain seeped into his wounds, and he gripped his stomach tighter.

"You're going to need it when I'm through with you!" Envy jeered, charged forward, threw his blade out. Edward stepped back, ready to meet the attack, his pipe held side-long. The blade scraped across it, sparks flew at the sheered contact. He knocked it away then, jabbed forward into Envy's stomach. But he lost balance with the weight, the jab glanced off to the side, the lead-feeling in his thighs sent him to his knees.

The blade came down on him, his prosthetic left his wound, both hands held up the pipe to block. But the blade caught a notch, and with the strength of the wielder, sliced through the pipe.

_Shit!_

He tossed away an end, left him with a pipe sliced clean through at an angle, both hands held on tight to expel the agony. Envy's blade came down with another slice, but he rolled down with the extra weight, fell to the floor in an outcry of frustration.

_Wait, he doesn't know how to…! I might still…!_

Agent Smith's stance held strong against the blur that was Morpheus' vision, in narrow-eyed contempt of it, his gun never faltered from its target, 'Don't make me repeat myself, Morpheus. Hand over the codes to the Zion Mainframe!'

Edward rolled onto him then, and with the point of the pipe, struck down on the blade's underside. The sparks went up, darted from the scrape of the metal, sounded clear over the rain and formed with the deep scream as the blade came loose from the underarm, that released blood from beneath the guard. He twisted the pipe round, and with the blunt end, swiped the blade out of Envy's reach. Another twist and the point was straight at Envy's throat. But it froze there, just inches away from death, teetering on the brink of surrender.

"You actually thought…" Edward groaned as the blood welled from his wound, dripped from his mouth, "that the blade would give you an advantage? You can't use a weapon… you don't know how to wield!" Envy's eyes rolled to his forearm, to the blood that pooled out from beneath the metal shell, "And as for the blade… you don't know the true make-up of my auto-mail, do you? Compared to _hers_, it's just cheap scrap! Look," He peeled his prosthetic hand from the steel of the pipe, to show where the surface had become gnarled, but even under the circumstances, his fingers still retained their movement as they snapped back to his wound. He had to bite his lip to keep from screaming, "You said the acid could melt through steel…" and he gulped at the well of pain coming up, heaved it down, "but it's hardly touched the joints… only the surface is damaged. That's what you're up against, Envy! You can't stand up to the real thing!"

Envy grabbed the pipe, pulled it into his own throat. He rolled back, kicked out as Edward lost his grip in the shock, sent him over and skidding through rubble. He rolled over from his back. His stomach clutched tight, wretched as more blood poured loose, shook as the burn intensified, as his hunch became unsteady. He blinked hard, to keep his handle on consciousness, and he tightened his fist, glanced up towards Envy.

Envy was up on his feet, and though the blood poured from his throat and his arm, the volts of healing came out of his shoulder, lashed around his neck, and Envy grinned with his grip on the pipe. He was consumed in the revelry of the death that had been evaded as the volts ate away at the metal shell and the blood from beneath. The bright flashes of scarlet receded then, moulded with the illuminated forks of lightning above, and all over him only skin and flesh were there in their entirety, attached to a form that Edward had longed to see one there.

"At least I'll have something you'll never have!" Envy grinned and, in the folds of his material form, he had become a dream made real, but bestowed on the wrong form.

'Hand over the codes, now!' Agent Smith bellowed as the thunder answered his command in untranslatable crashes, only his gun could decode the response, still cocked and ready.

"You shouldn't have done that!" Edward kicked off his feet, gritted his teeth into a bend of agony, and retrieved the guard-blade from amongst the rubble with metallic fingers. He jumped forward, blade ready as he came down, right before him. The blade dug into the flesh down at the shoulder, right through flesh, into the bone, clean through. The limb met the brick with a pitch of screaming. Envy clutched the stump and jumped back. Edward threw the blade away, to fizz to black before it could skitter across the rubble, into the atmosphere, no longer visible.

Envy fell to his knees, bared his teeth in threat.

"You're reckless… when you fight!" Edward scowled, "You don't think… about your moves… you're only looking… for the next cheap shot!"

"Then it's tit-for-tat, pipsqueak!" Envy howled, and with his left, he grabbed the pipe, ran forward. Edward brought his auto-mail up to guard, the auto-mail heavy in disobedient weight. He was suddenly so close, and in a flurry of blood and scarlet light, the point of the pipe was forced through the pit. The stab was full of the wielder's strength, nerve wires were snapped, the inner structure fractured, and a dense radiated from the shoulder. Suddenly, all feeling was lost as the shoulder shield was dented from within, and his arm became nothing but deadweight.

_My arm…!_

"Don't you see?!" Roy screamed, "HE'S NOT GOING TO TELL YOU ANYTHING!"

With a twist, Envy yanked out the pipe. Edward struggled for balance, and fell to his knees. The muscles of Envy's forearm had finished their construction, and as the skin stretched to conceal the intricacies, the bones and tendons of his hand soon coated in more muscle, more skin, before all viewers could behold its completion, bare where the sleeve no longer existed.

Edward could only grip his auto-mail hand, and push it against his wound in desperation.

"How did you…?" Edward exhaled, wobbled in place as the effects of the blood loss started to take a firm hold, forced the darkness into his vision where the burn of acid had yet to relent.

"I was holding back just now," Envy smirked with ease, "I am _much _stronger than you think I am."

A sudden scream rang out, Edward stared round only to be struck in awe. The body twisted with the force of the throw, only breached the air for a few airborne moments, for his back to collide with the wood of the bed, to yell out on landing, hit the ground, before falling into a sudden silence. "ROY!" Edward screamed, twisted in panic, for a shooting jolt of pain to course through his body.

_Please, don't be…!_

The body lay there against the drum of the rain. It slowly washed away the mud and the blood that caked his body, his chest expanded and exhaled in laboured breaths in that silence that the thunder beckoned. He was unconscious, but he couldn't swallow down the flare of hot panic and fear that welled from within. With tightened fists, Edward tried to drag himself forward, arms outstretched, ready to meet the body half-way.

"Roy! Wake up!" He called out weakly, coughed as he stretched his hand further, "Roy!"

"Oh no you don't!"

The pipe swiped across his face in a cold metal sting, knocked him sprawled out on his back. He could only stare up at his captor, dazed, just from the corner of his sight – the metal glinted in the midst of a lightning strike far off, held in place by the grip of the mimicker, an intense scowl on his face. "This fight…" He growled lowly in his feminine grate, and the pipe was raised in his right hand, "should be the _only _one…!" The pipe came down on him, Edward's eyes widened, before he screwed them shut.

_Alphonse, Roy, I'm sorry, I tried!_

"… that concerns you!"

A shunk, but he felt no pain, and as he opened his eyes from the darkness, he caught a glimpse of the pipe's metal, caught its refractions at the right of him. He tried to struggle back then, but he couldn't move, he was caught, something…. He saw it then, the pipe was forced through the joint of his elbow, buried into the rubble beneath. He was pinned with the debris. He tried to pull again, but no response, the arm was just deadweight that served only as a steel hindrance and nothing more. He was caught by his own support.

"And now, I can take as much time as I want." Envy sighed, stepped round Edward's sprawled body, and came to his left, bent down to face him proper. "So, is that how it is?" His grin widened, "You and the Colonel, huh? I never would've guessed!" A blush started to spread on Edward's cheeks, flowed like a red ink stain on murky paper. "First Neo, and now the Flame alchemist too? You _must _be popular with the boys!" He laughed.

"You… don't know a _thing _about me…." Edward huffed weakly.

"I don't have to," Envy shrugged, "any fool can see that you have the hots for him, right? So, how long have you been hiding _that_ one? Huh?" His face twisted then as the mirth took over, "Did you stay up all night, writing in your little diary while bawling your eyes out, just to make it through another day while your _precious_ _Colonel_ fucked his lieutenant? Must be _painful_!"

Edward recoiled, almost balked at his words, tried to struggle more, but without success. Envy chuckled at the sight of the boy's fear playing before him, and confirmed all accusations.

"How pathetic," Envy smirked, "You make out like you're tough, but you're anything but. Although," he shrugged finally, "I have to admit, you have good taste. Shame they have a tendency to be beaten so easily, first Neo, and now your Colonel hasn't got much longer." Envy smiled lightly, "I could be merciful, I could snap his neck, and he wouldn't know a thing about it, and it would be all over. All you'd have to do is give the word," which twisted into a smirk, "but of course, you won't do that, because that would be the _easy _thing to do. And you don't do _easy, _do you?"

"Because… doing what's _easy…_ is not the same as doing what's _right_, or fair!" Edward growled as his breathing became laboured.

"Oh do you ever stop with the cool lines and the moral high ground?!" Envy rolled his eyes and sighed loudly. He seized Edward by the chin, and forced it to his left, towards the body that laid there unconscious. "You see him?! He's not shut up with the lines since he got here, and now look at him! If he'd done the _easy _thing, and let us take the codes, then you wouldn't have had to waste your time plugging in! You know, we would have let you walk out of this alive with your precious Trinity _hours _ago if you had given us the codes like we asked! But _noooo_!" Envy carried in a high and sardonic tone, "Instead you come waltzing in all _noble_, and because of that, three of your crew are dead, your Captain's a drugged up vegetable, Trinity is having second thoughts about you guys, your precious _Colonel _is unconscious, and _you!_ Man, you should be dead in a matter of _minutes_! The fact you're _not _dead is a miracle beyond all human consciousness, but you know what? I think I'm going to throw you a bone here!" Envy bounced up from his crouch, "I'm going to make this nice and _easy _for you!" He stepped over Edward's prone body, and with a grin, stood between him and Roy, "Make your Captain hand over the codes, or I'm going to snap your boyfriend's neck!"

Edward's eyes fell onto Roy, the rain pounded down on him, and for all the strength that he had seen in the man, the man that he had looked up to for so many years before; all he could find was weakness and vulnerability. That the man was suddenly so ignorant of the danger that befell him was too much to bear. He hardly thought that possible of him. He should be up on his feet, ready to defend his Captain, and he _was_, but now he was nothing more than a pitiable form, beyond the point of saving.

_No… I can't think like that…_

"So, which is it going to be, hm?" Envy grinned wickedly, "You going to persuade the veggie, or are you going to watch as I pull him limb from limb, hm? Would that be nice? Oh, and I'm stepping up the terms to something more tortuous with each second delay, so you'd better start choosing." Envy folded his arms casually, "But no pressure." He smirked.

If Envy so much as gave the word, then it would be all over, and the man would no longer suffer, but then all those nights of yearning, they would've been for nothing – he would still be alone. Alone, _alone_… he shook away the creeping pang of loss, and in his panic his eyes darted quickly for Morpheus. The man he was meant to pledge his life to, as his Captain, as _their _leader, he couldn't let everyone else down either. The lives of millions were worth more than the life of one man, no matter how much he meant to _you_ – they were not the same worth, and they could never be, especially when there were consequences to be considered. But there was no time for that. The clock was still ticking – one or the other, your crew mate, or your Captain, one life, or the lives of millions…!

He could only gulp down his fate and exhale the breath he had been holding all this time, to let go a heavy sigh.

"Alright…."

-/\*_;)(-

He hoisted himself up onto his knees. The sentinels had swarmed in, and ready claws and tentacles had already taken the life of the operator and amidst the chaos, their lasers had brought the floor down beneath his feet, and him into a descent towards a darker part of the ship, down into the top deck. Blood trickled from his nose and his temple, his head was woozy from the impact bringing movements without balance. It was a miracle he wasn't dead.

The mechanical cries of the sentinels brought him to his senses, even more so as their glowing orbs came into being from the floor above. From his peripheral, he caught the sight of Jue; her lids flickered in the trance of a dreaming sleep.

He bared his teeth, and snatched a lightning rifle from the floor at his feet as the sentinels advanced. The whole place lit up with the blue rays of the rifle as it froze a sentinel in place, before it dropped heavily to the ground. But still they made their advances, and he backed towards Jue's body. He let out another ray – another sentinel dropped before him.

_Don't worry, Jue! I won't let you die! I will protect!_

-/\*_;)(-

The crawl of the monotonous beep settled around them, trembled in its show of mortal finality, and stuttered into a semblance of human life of a heart beating once again with such a strong force that had never been seen before, that he tried to denounce it. But on this side of reality, where the evidence beat right before them, it had to be believed. Tank could only stare in a gaze of incredulity, now transformed into a widened glare as everything, everything he'd known had to adapt to its belief system. Compared to all that he'd hoped for, he had no power, he didn't have the power to make it happen, he was completely weak compared to this newly living being, this… messiah, liberated from all the barriers that death had held against them.

'He really is…' Tank gasped breathlessly, '… the One.'

But Dozer's eyes were already focused on the screen; he stared through the raining code, through to what really mattered, to the boy still pinned by the steel pipe.

'Come on, little man….' Dozer urged, 'Get up…! Just get up…! You can do this…!'

_If Neo can… is Edward also…?_

Tank too stared into the screen, felt himself being pulled into it, completely absorbed by the battle that took place in the inner-Matrix – he was drawn in by the strength and the will that emanated from the figure, laid out before the decision of his life.

'You can do this, Ed! Come on…! Get up!'

_Dozer… have you always believed…?_

Dozer gaped then as the air seemed to escape his whole body, frozen in a moment that teetered on the brink of what they knew and that what they hoped for would come to fruition, or fall apart right before their eyes.

-/\*_;)(-

"I've made my decision," Edward gulped within the continuous strains of the agony, his teeth bared against the face as it twisted into a bright grin.

"Oh?" In his burst of enthusiasm, Envy made steps towards Roy, "Would you like me to start with the legs or-?"

"No!" Edward barked out above the rain and its tumultuous roar above the thunder, so clear that Envy stopped in his tracks, "I choose neither!"

Envy's face sunk then, and twisted into a scowl, "That's not an option."

"We never intended… to stick to this deal… in the first place!" Edward heaved in another breath with effort, sputtered a cough in his blood loss, "We never intended… to play your games…. We're not like you…" Edward seethed between bared teeth, and Edward caught a glance then as, in his weakness, Edward reached out with his left hand across his chest, in the direction of the steel pipe, "we're not limited… by the choices we're given…."

"You think you can pull out that pipe? Don't bother," Envy smirked in his dismissal, "I told you before, I'm a lot stronger than you think I am! I would never make it so easy for _you _to pull it out."

A chuckle escaped Edward's throat, dry, struck Envy with a look of confusion with every rasp, "Thanks for proving my point…." Tucked his hand beneath the layers of his jacket, where his hand settled on the metal hub of his shoulder, "Who said….", and grasped it tight, "I was trying to pull out the pipe?!" He twisted at the notch of a bolt, and gritted his teeth as he gripped it tighter. His fingers were wet with blood, but still he tried to twist, pushing harder against the tear of metal that sent jolts of agony through his body, caused him to scream with the endeavour. The pain intensified, grew stronger as he felt it, the slow detachment at the hub, where some feeling still existed.

"Don't tell me you're trying to…!"

He grasped tighter, twisted harder still. His fingers dug into the angular sides of the heavy bolt, and pushed further. Then, the tension gave way in the last pull, it wheeled loose completely and the prosthetic was released from the grip of the hub, creating a slack in his sleeve as he rolled from his bondage in a ferocious scream of liberation. He pushed to his feet in a fray of blood that leaked out from his wound, more so in the motion, but he paid it little attention as he placed a foot on his prosthetic, and grasped a hold of the pipe.

He shook with effort as he wrapped his left arm around it for grip and stability, heaved and pulled, until he felt something come loose beneath the rubble, and the pipe edged forward out of the brick.

Envy's eyes widened in the realisation of what he saw – a comeback, a chance that Edward was going to crawl back from this, and panic flared in his chest. He ran forward. He forced out his leg, bent into a kick aimed right for Edward, "Dammit, I won't let you-!"

Suddenly, Edward pulled on the pipe like a lever, forced it back, and right in Envy's way . The kick landed as he struck the pipe the pipe with his foot, and in the strength of the attack, it was ripped up from the brick and the rubble, out of the auto-mail, to clang free of its prison as Envy rolled out of momentum, to come face-to-face with Edward. Edward smirked then, and stepped over to the pipe, picked it up, and wrapped it around his arm for stability as he tried to steady the end, now weighted down with chocks of brick.

Envy's teeth were bared in defiance of the consequences of his actions.

"That's right…" Edward smirked, and slowly sunk into a crouch, "You are a lot stronger than you look," and as more blood trickled from his mouth, he slowly rose the pipe from the ground in a shaky stance, but gaze never wavered, and he stared straight for Envy, "and that's why… you won't get the codes."

-/\*_;)(-

The roars of celebration fell to a sudden silence as the eruption of a siren coursed through the room, burst into life with the throbbing, circling waves of a red alert. They stared into each other as their faces twisted from joy into an utter mortification with each impression that fell on them. In the passing moment, each ringing signal struck within them a mutual understanding, spelled out their widening features as a cold tumult of dread rolled out from inside and seconds later….

They were forced forward, they ran towards the cockpit, and Tank made a beeline for the controls at the steering wheel. He typed at them, and the orb by its side cast out bright rays that formed before them the holographic bodies of the sentinels. They swerved towards them through the whirling tunnels of the wormholes they navigated, not far from their ship.

'Damn,' Tank cursed, 'Six of them!' His fists tightened.

'Sent by the Agents, no doubt.' Dozer growled as he gazed out through the window, and peered into the depths of the darkness behind their shield of light. They could only watch out for the sentinels as they steadily closed in on them. But, in the darkness of the wormholes, they were nowhere to be seen. They could only be sensed by the thrill of panic that bubbled in their chests, the sensation of knowing they were being chased, cornered, and it would only be a matter of time before they were caught. It played out like a nightmare, but without the smoky barrier of a dreaming sleep.

'It's a shame,' Tank uttered into the synapse of air, for his brother to turn in given attention, 'if we could use the EMP…' he frowned.

'Then Zion would lose its Saviour!' Dozer countered, 'We can't let 'em die that way! They're our crew!'

'I know that!' Tank barked, and heaved in breath with the steady formation of the crawling blue waves that circled in the corner of his eye, that spelled out their inevitable fate. It was too much to take in, to catch, and a sudden wave of exhaustion sent him falling back into the seat behind him, to let out a heavy sigh where the caught breath was released from his lung-grip again, 'So… is this it…?' And with the exhaustion, came the finality, the weary admittance of certain failure that, in the Real World, had to be faced, often with the resignation that hope was hopeless. It showed in the solemnity of his eyes as he glanced up at his brother.

But Dozer's face reflected a soft smile in return, 'what you talkin' about?' where hope was hopelessly bad at admitting defeat, 'We're the operators, remember? While the crew defend Zion from inside, we have to defend it from out here. While they're plugged in, we have to be their eyes, their ears, their hands, and their feet.' He grasped Tank's shoulder, squeezed it gently, 'Come on', and motioned towards the top deck with his head, 'we need to grab a lightning rifle before they get here.'

Tank's face twisted then, 'You seriously don't think we can defend against _six sentinels _by _ourselves_, do you?' he growled.

'I'm not sayin' we'll stand a chance, but we have to try, an' even if we did here, we did it protectin' the One, an' that's a duty worth dyin' for.'

Tank's face softened, and with a sigh, he stood up from his seat in a show of submission, and as they both frowned, they stared out through the glass, towards the black abyss of the wormhole, alight with the headlamps of the ship as far is its radius could reach. But beyond that was a cloaked mystery, and both could concede, they would not see the danger before it was too late.

'Big brother?' Tank spoke softly, whispered for fear of the oncoming danger, that they would be heard, and leaned in towards Dozer, 'Do you think we'll die here?'

For many moments, Dozer stared out as though into empty space, and for many seconds didn't see anything. He only breathed in equal motions as though everything before him had become a shrouded mass of nothingness that could not be negotiated, to the point of it being useless to try. And yet, through it all, there was a sense of calm and quiet sedation that questioned the very notion of consciousness, that slowly lagged in degrees, until finally, he let a breath escape.

'I don't know,' He glanced down towards Tank, 'but we gotta believe,' and in a slow motion, he turned round from the window, and started walking towards the top deck, leaving Tank by the window, 'for their sakes, we gotta have faith.'

As the red alert continued to whirl through him, he stared on after Dozer, before following him through to the top deck.

-/\*_;)(-

Edward stepped forward with the swing of the pipe, battled Envy back, the rubble-end thrown for his face. Envy raised his arm to block, grunted with the contact, and ducked beneath the pipe, to twist for Edward's stomach wound. The pipe slid from Edward's grip, for a moment, for the other end to block Envy's fist. A new grip had been negotiated; he pushed it down, for the rubble-end to fall on Envy's head.

Envy dodged back, but with the momentum, Edward snapped it back. He pulled the other end out of the ground, to jab forward, for it to hit Envy square in the chest. Envy toppled back, and in the gravity red volts flared from his chest, splayed out in reconstruction, before he fell back into the rubble. Edward followed, landed on him. He straddled for dominance, and with his arm twisted round the pipe, swung it across Envy's face.

Envy struggled and grunted, but Edward didn't let up, swung it back round again. Blood erupted from Envy's mouth, sprayed in splatters across the rock, but Edward kept going, his teeth gritted in effort. Each hit that met its mark was a burning endeavour, each grunt that issued from Edward's mouth was there for the sake of control and in the next swing, he threw in such energy that he felt the other's give way.

Envy's neck gave a deadening crack, his head lolled against the rubble, against the brick and in those moments of stillness, Edward heaved for breath.

His body sunk in a sullen pose of respite, the opportunity was coming for him to collapse, but he couldn't let himself. His body shook just to keep himself together, his chest heaved erratically to suck in the oxygen that he could. He clenched his teeth, to keep down what he was afraid would come any minute, any second -! His teeth released and in a spell of hot saliva he coughed as blood gushed from his mouth, the pipe clattered in his lost grip of it, and his body flopped.

The agony drew him in on himself, his stomach held enfolded in the wrap of his arm, his eyes screwed up tight with its squeeze and wretch, and his mouth gaped wide to let it go, but no sound came free. Instead his chest fell in sporadic motions, the pain embroiled in that one point, suddenly too much to bear. But in his throat a gaseous lump formed, a blockage that kept him from catching his breath, and whatever fell from his mouth then, came out high and rasping, in pants that were unable to translate the breathless agony.

Rolled from beneath, the solid weight had gone, and in the confusion he was kicked back, the wind knocked out of him completely. In the whistle of the air, his back clipped the bed post, he grunted frustration, and fell to the floor in a heap. But he tried to struggle, he pushed up onto his elbow, hacked and coughed away the blood, rasped and sputtered to clear away the lump. Steps, they neared closer, louder and louder – he tried to twist, the pain flared in his back, he curled in on himself.

Suddenly, Edward was pulled up by his collar, and forced onto his knees, the punches rained in on him in their brute force. His face was struck in the punches, pummelled his left, he couldn't bring his arm up to guard. Another punch, he found his voice in the yelps, but the pain couldn't be stopped, neither could the blood that broke free of his skin, welled down his cheeks.

He gritted his teeth in effort; he scrambled back, and reached though the punches rained further. In the next moment, his fingers found the bed post. He latched on, and in the next heft brought his legs up from the ground. He kicked out then, stamped into the fleshy wall of Envy's stomach, held up by the loosened grip, then lost, as Envy tumbled back. Edward lost his hold on the bed post, and fell onto his side, pain radiated from the collision of the bullet wound, but this time, he didn't remain on the floor – in the breathless fount of the adrenaline rush, he barely found his footing.

Balance was soon restored as he slowly stood up straight to retain it. But before him, having fallen to his knees, long dark strands covered the deathly pale skin of his face. Envy raised his head then, and in the flash of lightning, Edward caught a glimpse of poison violet orbs, the whiteness of teeth bared in a savage rage, his identity uncovered in a stark honesty of feeling. Now he was showing his true face.

Another flash, within the light, the refracted curve of the metallic pipe was caught in sight, and within Envy's. Their gazes flickered to each other's, fixed, before both rushed for it.

The feeling finally floated back into the fullness of his form, forcibly felt where he screwed his eyes up tight, and then, in the tautness of his fists in an assumption of control, his vision grew clearer, and as the blur waned, he was even more aware. Rubble, darkness, flashes of light, the blow of leather on skin, grunts that fuelled the thunder roars. He stared up from his gut-side where before him the fuzzy whorls of gold played across the room, in a giddy tug-of-war against a monster, fit for darkness, cloaked in it as any other. A sigh escaped his lips, the monster had assumed its own identity, he could at least tell who he was rooting for, and somehow, that was reassuring.

Edward bent low, kicked out into Envy, and sent the monster back towards the wall. In the force of the kick, he crumpled and rolled to the side, seized his grip on the pipe. He dug the rubble-end into the ground, and in the momentum spun onto his feet. The blood roared incessantly in his ears, but that didn't matter, and he ran forward, screamed, the pipe brandished high. Suddenly, the strength was there to support the fight, to back the struggle – the pain was falling behind him in the wake of faster steps, as he charged towards Envy, swung forward.

Roy blinked hard as the rubble tightened between the grip of his fingers, the taste of salty grit rolled along his tongue, and in the dismissal of the flavour-bath, he spat away the rain and mud that clogged his mouth. But that left little impression when compared to the object that danced in his blurry vision. His wounds… his arm… the blood… he should've collapsed by now… he should've- he _should _be dead, but-! He was fighting on… not once in the past had he known the boy to admit defeat and give up… all the rumours and reports had spoken of his stubbornness, back in the bluepill days where reports were a luxury… but now the proof was there, of a man who never backs down, fights for family and friends alike, even to the point of exhaustion and eventual death. Even now… he wasn't dead… he was still going… and in that gesture… a miracle was forming.

In that split-second Envy dodged the rubble-end, and in its return, it came back in a twist above Edward's head. Envy held up his arm to block, the pipe stopped in its rotation, and with the weight, fell to the ground. Now Envy had the advantage, he grabbed a hold, and swung it round. But Edward didn't let go, his left arm wrapped around the pipe, his grip secure. He was flung round off his feet, the cyclone travelled back, towards the wall still intact, to throw him off.

Edward saw it coming, his feet found their place on the brick, ran with the motion, across the corner, over the other wall, and as his feet left contact, he fixed his grip. His feet found the floor, kicked off the debris, and swung beneath the pipe, where he forced his feet together, twisted, for him to land square in Envy's chest.

Envy was pushed against the back wall, the collision forced the pipe from his hand, and Edward fell with it. He rolled the pipe round at his side, and in a single manoeuvre he was on his feet, and he sidled back in his fight for balance.

The dance of flames surrounded the golden whorl, a blurred object for his gaze to follow, for his eyes to flicker in line with. He followed the twists, for the corner of his mouth to perk in the quickening spark of an overtaking revelation. For as long as that flame remained in his sight, nothing could douse it… he's not going to give up… with every twist and turn… he's not going to give in… but this couldn't go on forever, you could only play with fire so long, before you got burnt… the fighting would end, and for that, when the flames licked the skin, that's when something would have to give… but that won't be Edward. He was the fire that consumed the energy of the other. He knew that, and damn, he believed it. The very notion in his heart as he propped himself up on his elbows, to give his strength, his support, to add fuel to the fire-!

_Ed…._

Envy threw more blows, the balance was lost, and Edward fell onto his butt. But still he kept a hold of his pipe, and as Envy flung a punch, Edward swung it round. The rubble-end swiped Envy's fist, the attack was evaded. But Envy carried on, dealt more hits, and Edward swung it lower then, hooked it behind his leg, and yanked it up. Envy was knocked from his feet, to fall on his back.

He sputtered a cough, wheezed and rasped as his voice croaked under the exertion, beneath the weight of the pain that niggled at his back. His fists tightened with it, and he heaved for breath. "Eeee," as though a lump swelled, he coughed again, but the fight didn't halt, the thunder drowned him out. In the coughs that followed, the sputters of saliva slicked his throat, his head ducked as he swallowed.

_Edward…._

The toes of Envy's foot dug into Edward's stomach, he screamed as he was flung, through the jaws of the wall that was. He lost his grip on the pipe, into the wall that still existed. His back collided and in the tumult of noise, he heard a crash to his left, where the pipe had veered off.

Gravity forced him into a downward slide, where he fell on his front, spat away the blood in his mouth. He threw up his head to face the oncoming monster, the ire burned full in the violet orbs. Edward narrowed his eyes then, quickly flickered from the leer in search, but he couldn't find the pipe. That weapon was gone, but, he still had another.

"Eeeed…" he croaked, coughed in the sting, but that didn't stop him, he wouldn't let it. He had to know, _Edward _had to know, that he was here, that they hadn't lost everything, that he had his support. He always had his support… always-! … But maybe, he had always been afraid, a coward who lived in fear of his own feelings, contending with the pressure that his authority offered, as always too aware of the dangers when a child-! … But this wasn't a child, dammit, he knew that now-!

_Edward… don't…_

His back flat against the wall, he pushed himself up, guarded against the blow, and flung himself into his opponent. A knee met his side in retaliation, he folded in from the attack, but as the other came up, he knocked it back into receding. He bent low beneath the oncoming fist, twisted; his elbow buried into the other's stomach, and Envy fell back.

Edward charged forward then, he flung a punch for his face. Envy contorted with the force, stumbled to the side, his arm changed course, and as Envy straightened, it hit the other side. He was jabbed then, hit his stomach again, and Envy bent over double. An upper cut was delivered into his chin, he was forced straight, and he fell back.

"EDWARD!" Roy screamed, not even the thunder could crash the call into silence, or rebuke the rawness of its purpose. Within the golden whorls, the intensely-gilded orbs of the fire's centre alighted onto him, widened, as though enflamed by the voice that filled the space between them, and beyond. "DON'T GIVE UP, ED!"

His limbs shook with a brutal pain, and as he pushed himself up onto his palms, as those eyes fell back onto him, Envy caught within them the burning flame. He was trapped in the hold of their embers, fuelled by the lightning, by the voice, and they narrowed in a determination that, even with his towering strength, he couldn't possibly put out. It was like the kid was _asking _for a beating, but knew how to deliver – he wasn't going to give up on giving as much as he took.

_How can he…! After the beating he's taken…! He should've bled to death…!_

Those eyes continued to peer, looked down on him, glared right into the core of him with a tight fist. His body cast a shadow over the wounded weakling at his feet, now caught within a clamour of cowering that he couldn't rid from his frame, shook… his eyes widened and panic became the key word of his stare, something he never thought would float to mind, something that always coupled nicely with the human condition and now _he_, a _homunculus_, was the weakling…?! Envy's eyes narrowed then, he growled with bared teeth in active defiance, his fingers clawed the rubble as they tightened into fists.

"Stop it…!" His voice rose in a threatening tone that shook for control, "Stop-! Don't-! Don't look down on me!" Envy seethed, and yet, those golden orbs persisted in their glowering intensity, caused his stomach to twist with frustration, "Dammit, for fuck's- WHY WON'T YOU ROLL OVER AND DIE ALREADY?!"

As Envy heaved breath in sporadic gapes, Edward continued to glare at him, his face remained a stone mask, as though unshaken by his words, by the terror that tore into that deep, feminine voice. But every notice was being taken, every word had been absorbed into his memory, and almost instantly, his mouth opened slightly in readiness, as he took in breath, and steeled himself.

"Don't you see?" Edward growled, "It's not about… who's the One anymore… when fighting against the Machines… or anyone that stands in the way of the Resistance… that doesn't matter. But neither… will the Resistance stop for the sake of one life…." He winced beneath the concealment of his agony, let out haggard moans as his arm enfolded his wound, tried to swallow it down, "That's why… while I'm alive… while I still have the freedom to do so… I _have _to keep fighting…" his fingers gripped tighter into the sting of his wound, his whole form shook, "even if I die… I have to make it count… if that's what it takes… to stop you… then I'll do _anything…_!"

Envy could see it now, his eyes flickered as they scanned every inch him, every shred of ripped leather, every drop of blood that leaked, formed a pool beneath Edward's feet, with every breath he inhaled, with every moment he held Envy's gaze, and towered above the monster. A conclusion moulded before his eyes, an undeniable truth, shined through, unblighted by the flashes of lightning, and materialised from the golden irises of the eyes that dared look down on him.

_He's not going to stop… is he? It doesn't matter… what I do… he's not going to give up…._

Envy's face scrunched up in disgust at the notion, his fingers gripped tighter into the rubble, and in the strength of his grip, the brick crumbled to dust – and yet, he felt powerless.

_He can't even use alchemy, and yet…! He can't keep this up forever-! But… can I?_

"Shit!" Envy broke his gaze, twisted round, and kicked off from the debris, to fall into a run away from Edward, "Agent Smith! Trinity! Grab Morpheus, we're leaving! Now!"

Agent Smith sneered then, and he turned on his heel from the group, from Trinity as she kept a tight grip on Morpheus' shoulders, shook in the uncertainty.

'No, Envy, they're just humans.' The Agent growled firmly, 'We stay and we finish what we started!'

"Dammit, let it go!" Envy retorted, "If we stay here, then we risk going round in circles! If we leave, we still have your Morpheus, and we still have the codes, whether he spills or not, we win!" Envy grabbed for the air, and within the grip, a silver doorknob formed. It swelled into proportion, and within the light of its transformation, the air solidified just behind it. A slab of light stretched out, Illuminated the darkness of the room, for it to mould, and in moments, all perception registered the painted white sheen of a wooden door, ready to be opened.

Roy stared on, and as Envy barked his commands, the noise didn't filter in – he could hear nothing, but the sound of his heart as it beat loudly in his ears. He waited on a moment of opportunity to be heeded in the very seconds that passed by. His teeth bared, but not in defiance of what he could do, but in defiance of what they were trying to achieve.

_Shit, he's trying to escape…!_

Edward's body still shook, in an active hesitation, as still the energy he needed drained from his body; with every drop of blood that fell, he was slowly growing weak, feeling the burn of his muscle tiring from the fight, ready to rest. He wanted to fight, willed himself into taking another step, but his mind had begun to gain its own sentience, and with decisive action, registering exhaustion caused him to collapse to his knees. His body was a slave to the pain, to the searing shock it provided.

Envy grabbed the doorknob, and with little effort, flung it open, to reveal the bright realm of white behind it. It illuminated every corner of the room.

"Come on! We've got no more-!"

He flung himself forward. Arms outstretched, and as he landed, latched himself onto Envy's ankle. His fingers tightened around the bony flesh, and though the pain ate away at the juncture of his shoulder, he wouldn't dare let go.

"You're not getting away…" Roy growled, "I won't let you…!"

"Let go!" Envy tried to shake him off, kicked out from the man's grip, but Roy wouldn't let go, and latched on with a stubborn persistence. He dragged himself forward, as if to hug him there with a stronger hold.

With the other free foot, Envy stamped down on Roy's back. With each time the foot came down, Roy yelped out, with each foot fall, he tried to maintain his grip, with each crack and force of pain that radiated through his body, he held on for dear life.

Edward's eyes widened, each stamp and crack sent his mouth gaping, a strike of empathetic agony with each low cry that fell from the man's lips, and yet his own pain kept him stock-still in place.

Harder now, Envy stamped down, the other screamed out with the deadening crack from his chest, and the hug around Envy's ankle loosened.

All Edward felt was a rage that boiled in the pit of his stomach, gnawed with the acid, bubbled in his chest, 'til all he could see was red – he charged forward.

"ENVY!" Edward roared.

Then, sent toes beneath into a gut-side kick. Roy's body was flipped, and sent rolling back towards the bed. Edward ducked in the charge, threw himself into Envy, for him to fall back into the foot of the door. He held him down with a knee, and with his left fist pummelled into his face, "DON'T YOU DARE TOUCH HIM!"

But Envy was hardly retained, and he kicked Edward back, and sent him flying into the rubble. "Didn't you hear me?!" and getting to his feet, Envy stepped forward in quick strides, "I don't to _fight _you anymore!" Edward writhed from the coming steps, moaned in pain and panic as he tried to roll back onto his feet, but he was grabbed by the collar, forced up, for Edward to come face-to-face with the living monstrosity, eyes pressed close. "But if you're _really _spoiling for a fight," Envy seethed between his teeth, "then get up!" Envy swung him round, threw him back to the other side, for him to crash back into debris, for the slide of the mud to carry him forward as far as the rocks would allow. Envy strode towards him again.

The agony crashed forward, the full extent of all that he had swallowed down, had been lagged behind, and now bit at his heels and gnawed at every part of his body that their teeth could sink in to. The exhaustion pulled him down fast, absorbed the last of his energy into the rubble beneath.

"Come on! Get up!" Envy grabbed him by the collar, and with a heave, forced him onto his feet, this time gave Edward the chance to right himself, to find the balance he needed. With a slow recovery, Edward tried to raise his left arm, ready for action, to take another blow. "That's it!" Envy cajoled with a high enthusiasm, and grinned widely, "Throw a punch! Come on! Give me your best shot!"

Edward stumbled forward, grunted with the force of the punch he flung, but it was too easy to dodge, easily missed its target. As he rolled down, Envy brought a knee up into Edward's stomach, and he froze in his fall, to double over, screamed, and hugged his wound as he fell his knees.

"Hurts, doesn't it! Huh?"

Edward heaved onto his feet, his fists brandished high. Everything was an erratic panic now, he could hardly see anything, nothing but a blur, and his aim was blind, only aimed for the figure as the lightning flashed above. Momentary clarity, and he thrust it forward, the attack was a hit. Envy growled with the blow to his cheek, that sent him twisting back, but in it, his left leg went up, aimed for Edward's stomach, hit dead-on.

Such force was behind it, that Edward was thrown back. But then, as Envy shrank before him, the monster's eyes widened as his face dropped in realisation. He was sent flying back straight for the door-! Envy ran forward then, tried to grab for him, but his back had already passed the door jamb, and as Edward tried to reach out, his fingers caught the wood, the door started to close.

"Dammit!" Envy screamed, dove for the doorknob, but as the door slammed shut, a shine of white light enwrapped the wood, and in that instant, the door disappeared from view, taking Edward with it. It was as Envy fell through the shape that was once his escape route that he realised it, as did everyone else… he was gone, completely.

-/\*_;)(-

More sentinels piled in through the new-made hatch of the ceiling, and in their hum of artificial life, advanced closer, forced him up against Jue's seat, her prone body. They didn't let up, but neither did they take a rushed advantage. They could take as long as they needed, and with each sentinel that came closer, Thaddeus was forced into a defensive, only shot those within radius. Still their numbers climbed, with not much time to charge between bursts, less time to aim.

The seconds ticked on, carried forth the moment where an intense wall of sentinels had clustered, all swarmed in. There was only so long he could keep going, he couldn't take them all at once, and it was only a matter of time. One flowed into gap between them, was frozen then beneath the intensity of the ray, and fell to the ground close to his feet. They were right upon him now, their tentacles outstretched in a slow and tortuous game that prolonged the inevitable. In a churning flare of panic, he peered back towards Jue's sleeping form, her eyelids flickered as her mind was occupied within a fanciful dream. At least he could catch glimpses of peace reflected in her features, and for a moment, he could steady himself.

He turned quickly to face the danger, as though the momentary pause had incited a threat of blasphemous proportions, and in response the sentinels towered forward. His lightning rifle dropped from his hands in the shock, and he leaped from the claws, as though the bound of his heart had sent him back, and he landed onto Jue's body. His hands latched onto hers, and there he was, a human shield, his eyes firmly planted on the red sensors that came from all sides.

Screeches rose up in the throng of the electricity above, creating a chaos never before imagined in what was to be a victory cry. Amidst it then, something shattered, the last sound he heard in that moment, as his whole life was lit up with scarlet sensor-light, and in the next, defined by the deafening explosion that followed, everything was consumed in a storm of flame and smoke, now no more. No more fighting, no more dreaming, no more reality – their services to the Resistance ended in that second, and rest was a peaceful retirement, a deserved compromise to what before was an endless struggle, now at its end.

-/\*_;)(-

The scrape as Envy landed made his eyes burn into a whirl of fury, for maddened scrabbles to beat away the stunned silence of disbelief that followed. Even as the conflict's clamour settled, he couldn't let it go, he couldn't let himself accept the reality of what had just happened, and those yet unaware, had yet to grasp it. Even as Envy fought for footing, there were those still waking up to the nuances of possibilities that might transpire; Roy himself only just uncoiled himself from the leg of the bed, rolled back onto his gut to cough away the pain that came with being down-trodden. It balled up tightly in his chest, released slowly in the form of foaming blood that dripped from his lips.

In the passion of his efforts, his ire had yet to find balance, and any footing gained was promptly lost as he slipped back into the mud and rock, to be bathed in the cool puddles beneath, that only succeeded in fanning his anger as he seethed, ground his teeth together, "Dammit, that little-!"

Envy slipped again, and he beat his fists against the rubble in frustration. The thuds added to the coughs and hacks that Roy choked out as they shook his body, fast consumed his energy – with its remainders, he pushed himself up onto his elbows, for his eyes settle on Envy's panic-stricken movements that were achieved in the search for balance. Long fingers grabbed at the air, but the target seemed forever out of reach and they closed again around thin air. But still he clawed for the solid form, not visible, not even to him.

Roy's face softened then, sullen in the afterglow of combat and inevitable defeat, and as he saw the panic grow wide on Envy's features with each grab he made, he could only see a reason to pity: a once feared monster, now showing humanly capable emotions that doubted, and refused to let go.

_You didn't want to let go of this obsession because it's the only thing that's connecting you to the Beta-Matrix._

_ You were taken out of your Matrix and forced into this world so suddenly that you're finding it hardtop let go of what you once were. _

_ You have to let go of this obsession… it's not healthy, and it won't do you any good…._

_ Please, heed what I say, and abandon it. It's not too late._

As the low voice sounded around each other, he saw then the truth of them – words that were once meant for him, were now reflected in another, and all he saw was a pathetic shadow of the creature it once was, weak and foolish with a refusal for reality, such that it could only mean his downfall.

He could only acknowledge the situation, that his words would not a change a thing or have any effect on a fool that was deaf to reason beforehand. In dismissal of the sad figure, his focus alighted onto the lightning flashes and the brightness they offered as, in those seconds, he could pick out the figures that lay at the other side of the room, where the rain still beat down onto the shining leather of their clothing with dull raps. Morpheus was still laid on the floor by the wall, and just behind him, Trinity kneeled down, her hands on his shoulders, or support, reassurance for a man yet unaware. At least _someone_ was there, but there was still a presence that was equally dreaded, of Agent Smith stood before them. He frowned in a concentrated gaze as Envy was losing a grip of his composure, and whatever else he was trying to hold on to-!

Roy gaped, his vision flickered from one side of the room to the other, and he craned his neck towards the hall, for a spasm of ache to take hold. The next flash of lightning came, for him to find nothing, and in his realisation, his gut tightened with a burning anxiety.

_Where is he…?_

In the next grab, Envy slipped across the mud and rock underfoot, for legs to fly up from beneath him, and for him to fall flat on his back. In a fit of anger, he rolled over quickly onto his stomach, pushed up to his feet, to howl out in the Agent's direction, "SMITRH!" He turned on him, crouched low, not just in the effort for stance, but in threat and rage, "Why won't the door open?! What the hell's going on?!" and he flung out an arm to point to the air beside them, clearly failed in expectation.

The Agent's features held steady where the anger wasn't paid in equal worth, and instead held onto his self-control to answer in an honest summation, 'The door will not open if it's not connected to the destination, or if that destination does not exist. Where were you heading for?'

Envy shifted from the Agent's gaze in a hidden hesitation that he didn't want to own up to, but the question had been posed, and before the Agent, an answer had to be given, "That door led straight to the Beta-Matrix… but…" he drew in a breath in thought as his shoulders slacked, "… if the door won't open…" his whole body tensed and his gaze returned to the Agent's in display of a revelation, "then-!"

'The connection has been fractured between here and the Beta-Matrix,' Roy caught a glimpse of it from behind Envy, of white teeth bared in, for all intents and purposes, defiance of a stated fact that he couldn't yet swallow down, and Roy's own breath was caught in the anticipation of what might come, 'and Mr Elric is trapped inside.' Something he too could hardly swallow.

A chuckle suddenly bounced into the air around them, slowly crept into audibility and caught them all by surprise as the low decibels of the laughter filled the air, thick, and with each giddy second, grew louder into gasps of genuine mirth. Roy gaped at its very existence as it dispelled the intensity of the silence that followed what was to be a shock to all involved, and it came from the man he least suspected.

Agent Smith rounded on the sound that came from behind him, and in affirmation of its existence, Trinity glared down into her lap, towards the source, towards the man still laid on his back, gripped his sides, and writhed uncontrollably.

His knuckles cracked, and Agent Smith charged forward, seized Morpheus by the collar in his steps. Trinity scrabbled back into a corner in Morpheus' ascension as he was heaved against the wall, held at eye level by the Agent. But that did nothing to quail the laughter, Morpheus' lips still cracked in a widened grin, barked his mirth into the face of the Agent, laughed in the very face of the death and danger itself.

It was like… an assurance of something, a triumph that couldn't be denied or dismissed, and though only Morpheus knew why, he was on his side – the triumph also belonged to him-! And in that, the mirth was becoming contagious, and it spread across the supposed viral infection that was humanity. What was once a glaring helplessness, was slowly becoming a perk at the edge of his mouth, though he didn't know why – one thing was sure, Morpheus wasn't just laughing in humour anymore, for him to laugh like he did, it almost felt like- no, it was too familiar, it _did, _it just like a victory.

'WHAT IS SO _FUNNY_?!' Agent Smith roared and shook in a sudden outburst of rage, that breached the limit of patience that his once retainable composure was once able to maintain, but Morpheus' triumph would not bow out, and his laughter carried on as he gripped the Agent's wrists for stability. In the glimmer of his eyes that shone with a genuine happiness, he grinned joyously.

'We've won!'

The feeling was given an affirming word, and in that Roy was taken aback, but said nothing as the Agent increased his grip on Morpheus, his face contorted in disbelief. Morpheus' grin never wavered and his head tilted in the realisation that, somehow, the Agent still had no idea of the meaning of his triumphant celebration.

'Don't you see?' Another loud chime of laughter escaped his lips, his eyes screwed up this time as he became completely engaged in the mirth of it all, tears rolled down his cheek, 'Edward had the codes the whole time!'

The Agent scanned the man's features, to catch any trace of possible deception, and found none, 'you're lying,' but he couldn't accept it.

_I'm asking you to fulfil your duties as Clier; the search-engine, he who holds all the answers._

Morpheus gasped for breath between the Agent's tightening grip, only for his chuckles to carry with it a strange persistence, 'I wiped my memory of them! I-I made him promise not to enter the Matrix, but he did!'

_I have a feeling that, without me, this mission may not succeed, but neither can I put myself, or Zion, in danger._

'A-And now that he's trapped, it doesn't matter! Because we can't get to him, but neither can you!'

_But we still have a chance; if you agree, and no one else on the ship knows of this, then we'll have won either way._

'No matter how you look at it, we've won!'

_Now, can you promise me that?_

Morpheus straightened his face then into an exaggerated seriousness, in imitation of the man before him, 'The deal is therefore _null _and _void_!' before another fit of laughter overtook him, for him to writhe uncontrollably.

As the laughs met him full in the face, Agent Smith's eyes widened to a fact ever-dawning on him, that as the reality of the man's happiness started to take hold, he couldn't deny it – Morpheus was still under the effects of the drug, a state which he himself had administered. He had to admit, Morpheus' words of truth were his doing, and in the silence that followed the drug, he had finally gained what he was looking for – except, they weren't what he expected, nor what he wanted.

The Agent let go of Morpheus' collar, but before Morpheus could slip back to his feet, he was seized by the throat. The Agent's face burned with malice, as bright as an iron brand, and beneath its steel vice grip, Morpheus gasped and scrabbled, clawed at the hands for the Agent to loosen up. 'You're lying!' Agent Smith snarled.

The sound of the air being choked out of his lungs grated against Roy. He tried to move, a pain nagged at his chest, such that he couldn't fight against it, and he fell onto his side, grasped his ribs with bared teeth. He was useless – for all his efforts, he was still unable to protect Morpheus from his fate.

And yet, the laughter continued to wheeze from the man's lips. The Agent ground his teeth, scorned by the very mocking notion that the sound stood for: human joy where it wasn't due, that no matter what the Agent did, these humans were not going to play by the rules.

Morpheus continued to resist, his fingers dug into the Agent's hands, but the machine refused to let go, 'Where's your logic?' Morpheus half-moaned as he gulped for what air he could, 'Not even _I _can overcome the symptoms of Sodium Thiopental,' Agent Smith's fingers slowly tightened further around his neck, 'Have you ever…' Morpheus gasped out, 'known me to laugh, like I do now?'

The Agent's grip tightened still, his eyes narrowed into a vision of disdain, 'Then you are no longer of use to me.' He growled between gritted teeth, and both hands joined in a white-knuckle bid to choke the very life out of the man where the mirth soon followed. In slow degrees, he dealt torture for the man's insolence with only one final escape. Morpheus sought to get between the grip, to separate the Agent's flesh and his own, to slow the process of death, and he kicked his limbs out in a fight for life and breath.

_No, Morpheus…!_

He gripped his wound tighter, the frustration welled with the pain in his chest – he was useless. As the bitter cold of the water and the mud soaked into his clothes, the rubble biting into his skin, he felt it, the ever-present feeling of human fragility, and he reeked of it.

It cracked in the midst of the struggle, harkened for all to redirect their attention. It punctured the air in a single whistle that grew louder, came towards them at such a speed, that the walls seemed to bend with its arrival, as if to bow towards its presence, in recognition of the power it presented. With it then, a fountain of raw energy formed from a mouth that screamed from the core of its being with such an unnatural rage that all turned towards it in a subconscious attraction to the force. It grew louder, and louder, until the words were clear on the air with its sheer volume.

'ENVY!'

Envy shrank in recognition of his name, of the voice, and found himself retreating to the back wall, until the flat of his flesh was pressed against the burnt ruins of the door that was. There was a pop then, a deafening silence of arrival as, in the ceasing whistle; the walls righted themselves, and the bringer of that force touched down to the floor. All eyes were trained on him, witnesses to the soaked quality of his clothing, the ripped hole at the chest of his jacket, and beneath it, unmarked skin, clean of injury. In that moment, they were witnesses to a miracle in and of itself.

Roy stared, a man thought dead, and in a pang of guilt, the moment he had seen the dead flesh he had completely believed in it, until now. Now that he was stood before them, he almost wanted to doubt it. But as the lightning flashed, the electricity lit up to prove the striking completeness of his living form… he didn't know what to think, except that he could only be dreaming.

His mouth shut then from gaping disbelief, and without a second glance, Morpheus was released and he crumpled to the floor in a gasping heap. The Agent's lips cracked into a smirk and he took steps towards the standing man.

'Mr Anderson….' A level tone, but in each purposeful step was a sardonic pleasure, that there was something more spectacular to be expected from this new restoration of life – a new era, a new epoch.

The man's eyes instantly caught sight of the form that trembled by the wall. Neo sneered, 'You monster.' But neither was Envy deserving of that name as his whole body shuddered, wilted from the man's gaze, and his eyes widened as he knew full well that poisonous gaze was meant for him. His mouth fell and hung open. His knees quaked beneath the weight of the glare. His body sunk into an involuntary crouch, and for the first time, sweat dripped from his brow, heavy from new burdens, panic… even fear.

_How can you be…?_

Envy shook violently, to be rid of the heart on his sleeve, to convince himself of the heart he had ripped from the man's chest with his own hand. He gnashed his teeth, snarled, "You damn-, you can't be-! I KILLED YOU!" and cried out in defiance.

She folded her arms away from her face, and there he was, stood in an almost unidentifiable blur between the figures of the Agent and the wall. The heat rose in her cheeks, a lump formed in her throat that, with the breaths she heaved in quick succession, tried to choke away the feeling of tears. The very reality of what it meant, for him to be standing there, for her to be huddled in the corner, away from view, as though unworthy of it, incited her body to shake uncontrollably.

She crushed her hands to her face, to surround herself in darkness, to blind herself from his reverence as the grating ache of guilt caught up to her. Joy, sorrow, shame – as the tears continued to flow; she could hardly tell what they were falling for. She didn't want to know. She was afraid of the answer. But in that moment, she already knew, and in the next, knew what she would have to do.

Many bright orbs of light shone out from the bright light of neural activity where the most heat of the redpills resided. But in others, black pits shone out from the vision of those he dreaded, and in the forewarns of doom, they swallowed the green sheen of colour that constructed the entirety of the Matrix itself. His focus was drawn to the one pair, pressed against the wall, now larger and ready to consume, and be consumed by fear as the minute etches of darting light that made up its life force shrank beneath him.

His eyes flickered from them, to follow a flicker of light that broke from the neural activity through the horizontal buzz, to head to another set of deep pits, perked in a strangely gleeful anticipation that he had never registered among their metal, and yet the focus quickly withdrew.

The flicker of light darted across the wall, reverberated through the many chains of code as it dashed towards the corner room. It disturbed the already fretting sequences from the damage before, carried intentions and data, across the brick, to the greater force of life huddled there. It followed the coding that rained across the curves of her form, to be reunited with her neural light, still clear with a purity that the black pits had yet to touch. And yet, it had dimmed in places and fractured where the light couldn't get through. Already those small details told of everything and easily deciphered the information and injury in the scrutiny of his eyes that shone with malice – he was conscious of its wane, reflected pity, and a pang of sadness.

His focus traced back to the pair of pits still suspended there, and for all they contained just in their dim existence, a rage consumed him in a way that wasn't beyond his control, clear in the knowledge that he had the power to right the wrongs, and that he knew _exactly _what to do with it. He could tell, the shrinking form knew without a word between them. Just the stink of its fear made his ire burn brighter still, that such a creature had caused the damage it had. But whatever anger he felt, it wasn't visible, not in his face of composure. Only his eyes mirrored his emotions – they were windows to the soul, how true the old adage was.

'Envy, in the crimes you have committed, you tried to deceive Trinity and turn her against me,' he frowned, 'and in your efforts, took my life.' He let out a soft breath, and in the quiet salvaged the calm, to consider his next words, 'or maybe, I should thank you, because if you hadn't, my eyes would never have been opened.' But that soon dissipated, and their glint of immeasurable anger returned, 'But even so, you've warped Trinity's mind with your words and influence and for that, I can't forgive you!' He pointed a finger at Envy in persecution, and Envy shrank further, 'For your crimes, for her mind and my life, you shall pay with your own!'

Suddenly, Neo charged forward, but other steps had already made their way.

'No.'

In that one word, they clashed in the middle of the room, and sent up a crash of thunder that echoed in unison with what nature had to offer. Droplets of water were sent everywhere, diverted from their predestined paths, illuminated by the lightning that lit up the union, of man and machine, of enlightenment and cold hard defiance. In those seconds, none could see or foretell what would be seen, only when the clouds of destruction had parted would they know.

-/\*_;)(-

The sharp flow of laser-fire cut through the air above, sounded above the scarlet that flashed a red-alert that rung through the top deck. It wasn't long before they heard the chamber and clang of metal on metal, an all too familiar sound to them. With lightning-rifles clasped tightly to their chests, they waited with eyes fixed on the ceiling, where the sound was coming from.

Metallic cries rang out from above and reverberated through the walls, right through to the very core of their body, what could easily be taken away. It was a true signal of what was here and what they would soon be up against. It was better than any alarm and it flashed through the room in a form of foreboding.

'Damn, they're in the hull….' They were up against a machinist determination that was infinitely tireless, and Tank almost shrank away from the defensive. Then, a hand grasped his shoulder to keep him from backing up, and he twisted, to find his brother just behind him.

'Don' worry, Tank. I'm here.' Dozer's words held solemn and patience, and in the affirmation of his words, he nodded, at least grateful – any word from his brother was welcome, just to keep him grounded on the frontline, much less from running away from the danger ahead.

Suddenly, a sharp flow of laser-fire sliced through the ceiling with ease. It swept across the floor as it burned the metal with a molten-hot consistency that the brothers dodged as it came between them. It forced them apart. They faced its source, and sweated from the heat, from the anticipation as the tips of mechanical claws breached the rip and bent back the metal of the ceiling. Tank's stomach rolled at the sound, like paper being torn apart in the hands of a child, and them? They would be nothing more than smoke to them – no doubt just as easy to stab through.

'They're almos' here, stay calm…!'

Then, the ceiling opened up for a large glowing sensor to stare back at them – the sentinels were here, and with that the rest of the ceiling shrieked open, and with claws open, it soared on them in a rain of electrical sparks.

Closer, closer, as it came into range, the brothers pulled their triggers. Two intense bursts of electricity enveloped the main body of the sentinel with its azure rays, for it to freeze beneath the power. It struggled and writhed, but it was useless, and in the forfeit of its fight, its sensor flickered in a final gasp of freedom, but as it flickered off completely, the triggers were released. The sentinel dropped.

They jumped further out of the way, away from the claws as the body created an obstacle for them both – with a thud, it landed. But then, the floor shook, no one could've predicted the weight of the sentinel, or the fragility of the floor where the laser had torn through its metal surface. The floor creaked, opened up beneath the new weight, and the sentinel fell through the floor below, left a gaping hole between Tank and Dozer.

More sentinels crashed through the hole, yanked back the metal fold in a fray of sparks and forced it wider than their claws could spread. As they pushed into the top deck, they made their numbers known – there were so many, it was hard to distinguish from one sentinel's sensor and another. It made up a skyline of red setting suns that brought the night upon them as the ceiling was blocked from their view. They were outnumbered, but they had seen them coming, they were ready. Their weapons were fully charged, but the sentinels were out of range – the conclusion was uncertain, all would be decided on the next move, no matter who took it.

The first sentinel dived in, and as the lightning burst jumped the synapse, the oncoming sentinel was fried. It fell to the floor at the hands of Dozer. All sensors turned on the older brother, but then their attention fixed behind him, to the Redpills caught in unassuming sleep. Their gears turned towards their true objective, and they swarmed in on them.

Tank made to move, but almost lost his footing as his toes touched the edges. The hole was still there, and he stared between him and the sentinels that swallowed his brother in their numbers. He couldn't make the jump, not if he hoped to keep a hold of his lightning rifle, and without it, he'd be fuel for the machines in no time.

Another swooped in, broke through his thoughts, but his instincts kicked in and it was all he needed. He shot out at the sentinel, and like the first, it fell through the gaping hole.

_I'm sorry, Dozer, I'll only be able to take down the sentinels within range, it's all I can do. But, dammit, for you… I'll do what I can…!_

Dozer hit out with a shot against a sentinel, for it to fall, nearby another crashed. As the charge reached completion on his lightning rifle, he aimed for another, hit the underside as it made to evade. It couldn't be brought down completely, but as it struggled to get higher, he smirked – its pad technology had been damaged. He hit out again and it fell, but grunted out in pain as a claw slashed at his side on its descent.

They weren't keeping their distance anymore, and they swarmed in on them; their tentacles were arched in an orderly chaos and an indescribable want for destruction. It was an insatiable appetite that towered on top of the humans all the heat of the pressure and panic that would see any mere mortal flail desperately before death. Even as they swiped with their claws, forged into Dozer's flesh, he continued to pull the trigger on the sentinels. But it made a grab for his leg, tried to upend him, and while waiting for his weapon to recharge, all he could do was dodge and evade the other attacks. He scrabbled away from the claws, even resorted to short-range punches, but flesh against metal wasn't much of a defence; it was a worthy resistance though, anything to prolong the inevitability of death.

One sentinel skated around the outer circle, and reaching out with a bend for balance, Tank shot out from the edge of the hole. The machine could do nothing but fall, and as another fell they crashed together, and the first was sent rolling towards Tank, for it to tip into the hole. But not even experienced shots could make up for the numbers they were up against, and the charging time of the rifles was becoming a burden to their cause. The sentinels still had the time to advance, but even as they were being picked apart, Tank and Dozer had to keep shooting out, and in that, another fell at Dozer's hand.

The shatter of glass suddenly sounded between radical cries of fury, and through the circling shell of sentinels, Dozer caught a glimpse. A sentinel made it through the windshield at the cockpit. The sentinels continued to circle and the tentacles were ready in threat, claws snapped as it headed for the crew – it didn't join the circle, it headed for Edward.

'NOO!' Dozer screamed, shot down another sentinel just in front, and within a second rolled beneath its falling body before he could be crushed. He was back on his feet, ducked away from a further flail of tentacles and claws, undeterred as one made a snatch for his leg.

He saw then what had to be done. He leaned in further, shot down another of their kind for their attentions to be diverted, for their sensors to turn on him.

'That's it,' Tank growled, and his lightning rifle pointed out at the group's reformation as the rifle charged, ready for the next blast, 'come on, you fucking squiddies!'

More sentinels tried to herd him back into their fold, but Dozer pushed through the mass of flailing and freezing sentinels, and as their cries rang out, he lost his lightning rifle. It dropped in the midst of his fight as he dodged another flailing sentinel that was taken in Tank's assault.

He charged out from their reach, there was no hesitation, no more thought – he dove out in front of Edward's seat. His arms spread wide. The sensor shone out before him, he never realised how close, but even the edging panic didn't keep him from doing what was right, or force him to back down – he could never do that.

But external force was always the accomplished master over willpower, and heat and blood gurgled up into his mouth. He could feel its thick drench, and before the overwhelming force within could wrench him inside, he grabbed for the monitors that surrounded the seat, there for him to sustain his balance.

'DOZER!'

His brother screamed, and backed towards the rail of the ladder. He tossed his rifle aside, and flung himself forward as his toes reached the edge, to make a desperate jump, to reach the other side where he knew his aid was needed. Already, he could feel the gravity pull him towards the darkness beneath, towards the dull glimmer of a sentinel graveyard – if he were to fall; he would already be too late.

That call, so distant – the sentinel could do all it wanted to cut him down, but he was not going to be simply tossed aside. He could still offer his body as the high cost of living, especially for a life worth protecting.

-/\*_;)(-

The clouds dissipated, and from its source Neo fell from the clash in backward wheeling steps, the dust clung to his limbs in his retreat and his dark eyes trained onto the centre without a single flicker of confusion or panic. Their waves parted, revealed a truth in Neo's sure sight as though a prediction had come true on the principle that it would always be correct. For Agent Smith to be stood there with a composed resolution of knowing what had to be done – he too had a prediction, or at least, a hope that he wished to fulfil, and as Neo charged forward, all was set in motion.

Neo leapt forward with a kick, blocked, retorted with a fist that drove forward into the Agent's chest, for it to veer away from its target by slicing arms, already expert in deflection.

Neo's knee came up for the Agent's chest, but it failed to meet its target, caught by movements too fast to anticipate. Anything after that could only be felt, and a blow to his chest sent him doubling over, before another blow sent him staggering back.

The Agent followed on in hot pursuit, his teeth bared as he took in a thrill that no words could induce.

Neo caught himself quickly, to be faced with Agent Smith as he sent a left hook coming his way. He felt its force, it rippled through the air above as he bent low out of its path, and on his way up gave a force of his own, delivered in his shin as he kicked across the Agent's abdomen.

The Agent snapped forward, Neo's foot came up again, hit into the solar plexus. The Agent stumbled back from the blow, and further still on the second blow, for all composure to be lost. Neo bent low into the next attack, and he sent a high kick into his chin.

The motion gave a guided path, and a surer way of regaining the balance, and with well-placed feet, he won back his composure.

But Neo had already spun round into the next action, and as the next high kick came down, it struck across the side of his face. Agent Smith wheeled back, and where the heel had clipped him, shards of plastic splintered from his shades – his left eye was left bare to the sight of the man that dared defile him. With a passing flash of lightning, the icy blue of his iris was lit by its flare, and within each contour could be found a burning passion of anger, more than they would once belie.

Neo's eyes flickered across the figure, more man than once machine – no more holding back, now was the time for seriousness, to be afraid of the Agent, a machine fuelled with a purpose backed by emotion. That was more frightening, more imposing than metal, certainly, anything that felt fear, felt panic, indeed _felt_, was more likely to lash out.

In the next moment, Agent Smith slid the glasses from his face, inspected the damage to throw it away in a cold disregard.

The sound as it hit the rubble echoed between them, and there it became a signal, that Neo more than naturally reacted to, and he threw his arm into the next moment of contact.

-/\*_;)(-

With each second that passed, his body was locked in a hurtling free fall, engulfed in the force of gravity as he was brought closer into the view of floor, closer still, until his flailing became a concentrated stream of instinct. He immediately tucked in his head, for his shoulder to meet the metal, and in the ache of the landing, he rolled on beneath the writhing mass of the sentinels. His heart beat loudly in his chest, radiated through his body as it pumped hotly in his ears, until even the sound of their furious mechanical cries were being drowned out by the sound of the man's naturally stubborn determination to fight.

Another roll, and his feet found the floor again, and though shaky and weak from adrenaline. His legs found the strength to support his weight, and he ran until something fell into the corner of his sight, made of rusting metal, long and cumbersome, and he reached out for it. Something yanked him up by the ankle, his chin hit the metal, and he grunted upon impact, but he was still close enough…! His fingers curled round the lightning rifle, and he groaned from the weight, the fright of the scene, he twisted round, and in those last seconds before the blast, he shook his ankle free. The sentinel was thrown back by the intensity of the ray, and was sent rolling back into the hole behind.

Their sensors became bright then, calculations were being made, and they were becoming cognisant of the falling numbers; now a simple matter of comprehension that they could no longer ignore, and the sentinels zeroed on him completely.

Hot panic surged through Tank's body, he scrambled back from before the grabbing claws – the sensor of a sentinel pressed in close, the charge of the lightning rifle reached completion and he tightened on the trigger.

A tentacle hurtled forward, and in the next moment, strained for the reach of his chest, but no further as the whole sentinel had become frozen within place. Tank swallowed back the fear, and with his finger still clamped down on the trigger, he shifted back from the claws, forced himself onto his feet, all the while the sentinel frozen beneath an electric grip, before he released it. The sentinel hit the floor with a leaden clang, but already Tank's gaze had shifted towards the others, all ready to crowd in on him, and from the boiling red of their sensors, rip him apart of with the cold capability of any machine.

He too was sinking beyond neural conception, no longer hampered by conscious decision-making, acting on a dormant instinct to do what had to be done, a reflex he had almost forgotten how to trigger. Their sensors became targets, their cries signals that belied their position, and the closer they swerved in, the closer their proximity – it only served to improve his aim. With an accurate neatness in his shot, he took down another sentinel, before he moved onto the next. Even as he waited for the weapon to charge he became conscious of a timing between one shot and the next that still allowed for a slim victory – 8, 9, 10, and already the barrel of the rifle was forging lightning into another metal shell.

Now he and his enemies had metal weapons, that had always been true, but now, the gap between Tank and the sentinels slowly dwindled, until he was no different from a killing machine.

'T-Tank….' A voice, hoarse, shaken, penetrated his realm of concentration, and around him there was a swell of sound that grew louder, where the warped clamour of the sentinel's shrieks surrounded him. It reverberated where there was once before a dull shield of silence, 'Tank…' soft words, swollen with agony.

Tank clambered for the next target where all the automatic thought had stumbled in their neural channels, deep familiar croons pulled them to a halt, yanked them back, until all movement became stiff. All at once, he was pulled free of his inhuman stupor. All thought should be conscious, it was the pride of human existence, to have the luxury of choice, to let emotions rule against cold-hearted judgement, something that shouldn't be forgotten, no matter how long the battle raged.

His mind snapped back to the machines, a sentinel soared in for him with claws splayed and he quickly pressed tight on the trigger, for him to narrowly miss the main body. His whole body flared with a hot panic, and he was driven back by the claws that rushed in, sent him retreating towards the seats with each jab the sentinel delivered. He checked the screen, the lightning rifle had yet to fully charge, the wait was too long and the timing had failed him, any longer and-!

'Guh!'

He grunted out as a claw sliced through his leg, and almost dropped the rifle with the gnawing pain. The well of blood drenched his trouser leg, his finger clenched tight around the trigger, and the sentinel dropped with the others, and still there were more – there was no end to them.

'Tank…' a deep voice croaked behind him, 'I need-', and rounds of coughing consumed his next words, and his throat became clogged with the revelation of a liquid rush.

Tank struggled to keep himself up, to keep his legs from shaking and folding up beneath his weight and the weight of everything else that he could be held responsible for, responsibilities that he couldn't bring himself to face. Swallowing hard, he focused on the sentinels before him, and struck out at one as it veered too close.

'D-Don't worry, brother,' he tried to force a smile on his face, 'that's why I'm here. I'll destroy the sentinels, you just hold on,' to reassure him, but most of all to reassure himself.

'That's right,' Dozer chuckled in wheezy gasps,' but there's one more here you're not hittin'.'

'What…?' A sentinel fell to the floor near Tank's feet, 'what do you mean?'

'I-I need you,' I gasped in deep, heaving breaths, 'to destroy this sentinel… before it destroys me….'

Slowly, Tank peered from the corner of his eyes, and holding his breath, dared to meet the sight, before he twisted back towards the mechanical cries of a sentinel coming his way. He tried to hit, but his vision was clouded, and he tried again to swallow, to rid himself of the lump growing in his throat.

'Dammit, Dozer,' he growled between bared teeth, 'don't you know what'll happen if I do?!' He shouted above the sentinels, and they veered back as he sent an intense burst of lightning, azure electricity, this time a direct hit. 'If I hit it, it'll hit you too! The electricity will-!'

'I know that,' Dozer groaned and his knuckles whitened against the grip of his fingers around metal bars, shook as he held on, 'but compared to the Ones… my life… ain't worth it….'

Tank screwed his eyes shut, swallowed the sobs that gurgled and crept up into his throat, and the rifle trembled in his hold.

'I see it now, more than anythin'… defyin' the odds, even comin' back from the dead… they'll bring an end to the Machine War, they'll deliver us all… I know they can do it… an' if my life can help 'em do that… then it's worth givin', for them… for the resistance, for our people….'

_No matter what you do, victory can't come without sacrifice._

His voice faltered into an endeavoured whisper, before he descended into hacks, and yet Tank couldn't bring himself to face him fully. He could only keep his eyes glued to the sentinels, the lesser of two evils – it wouldn't help anyone if he, too, was forced into a point of surrender.

'Finally… we will see the end of the war… I jus' need you, Tank… brother… I jus' need you….' He gasped and wheezed; his voice swelled with the wet sound of tears, 'Please….'

Any thought of argument and retort had died in his mind, neither could he deny that the logic was well-placed; if he were to use the EMP, all sentinels would be killed, but so would the rest of the crew. All who were still connected to the Matrix would be taken because of a cowardly decision to see others die before taking on the weight of his burden, and he would've failed them, not just his brother.

He couldn't turn a blind eye to his responsibility anymore, and any more attempts to do so would only be a self-deception fit for the Matrix, unwelcome in the midst of the harsh truths of the Real World. He tightened his grip on his lightning rifle – he knew what he had to do. His brother needed him, his knuckles turned bone-white, and what was left for him to do now, was to turn around and face reality.

-/\*_;)(-

With her hands pressed against her face, she sat huddled in the shadows where she felt out of range, away from the presage of noise and what they alluded to. As far as she hoped, she was away from the danger; pressed into a corner where the solidity at her back became the only thing she could trust. Her body trembled from the coldness of the brick and the beating whip of rain-soaked air, but more so she shook from the burning fire that rose in her face. She couldn't suppress the frustration that welled, and worse still could barely control it.

No control, no free-will, no way of getting out. Each thought that the phrases conjured burst into her mind and brought her to the realisation; she couldn't escape. She was blocked in by the crashes of nature's thunder, the whistle of fists that sliced the air in two, the grunts that occurred after each block – there was no way of passing that wall of sound. There was no way she could unfold and run – her only choice was to sink deeper into the rubble-rock. Only the intermittent flashes of electric light could breach the boundary of her fingers, before leaving in seconds. But still, they were a threat, that something far more tangible could penetrate that synapse, and take her completely. She couldn't help but allow the abandonment to seep in with the light, and as the heat continued to burn, the melting liquid from her closed eyes dripped down her cheeks into the crevices of her fingers.

All she had was her voluntary blindness – the crashes followed, punches traded, the thunder struck, and still she waited for the sound to fade out of audibility, for everything to just… disappear, but how could it? She was hopelessly hiding, trapped in a world she couldn't escape. Even as the tears drenched her face, they couldn't dampen the light or the sound that pressed in further; the flashes that caught through the gaps, lit up her darkness, for it to threaten her safety. Then the cycle would begin, end, repeat cruelly for her enjoyment – she was hemmed in by an obnoxious series of déjà vu. She was caught up in it herself as she crumpled, rocked back and forth, back and forth – lightning, crashes, violence; it had to stop, it needed to end-!

Something yanked her back. Her hands came free from her face and her body tipped over, ready to catch herself – she was caught, just before her elbow met the rubble. The scrape and tumble of rock signified the movement beside her, hot breath tickled her cheek, but before she could twist to face it, her chin was seized and yanked towards the clash of bodies going on before her.

Neo rushed in with a fist, his wrist was seized, but he twisted it round and swiped his hand away. He sent a round of punches into the Agent's chest, then into his face. He barrelled one arm into the side of his head, but was caught, as was the other, tucked beneath the Agent's pits. Neo brought his knee up for distance, but the Agent forced the arms out away from his body. A fist to the chest sent the man reeling back.

The face pressed up against hers as though it shared her vision, "Don't you see?" The voice let out a coarse whisper, "Sure, he's back from the dead, it's a miracle."

Agent Smith strode forward, teeth bared beneath a throbbing vein, and from where the man caught a hold of his footing, Neo lunged forward. A punch to one side, dodged, a punch to the other side, dodged successfully. But as Neo flung a fist for his face, Agent Smith caught the assault, and trapped the arm against his shoulder, and sent a deadening punch into Neo's liver side. The man tried to recoil, but only a back-kick to his face would release him.

"But he's still as weak as he always was," the voice cackled – she tried to shut herself out from it, for the presence beside her to shake her open, "as you've always known him to be." She could feel the soft brush of the face travel along her cheek, for warm lips to settle at her ear, "If he's the One like we all know he is, then why is he failing, hm?"

An arm was aimed for the man's face, but Neo caught it, and kicked high. Agent Smith was caught instead, and he hit the machine's stomach with a side-long fist, and more still, hacked away at the Agent, before he kicked him away. The Agent stumbled back, but he was ready with bent defiance for the next attack. Neo jumped in with another fist. He was blocked, the fist knocked aside and the Agent flung one in his own retort. Neo brought his hands up in a cross-hatch to block, but the oncoming fist dug away at his defence, and the other hit him square in the chest. Neo was thrown back, prone in the air, before he tumbled down with the vulnerability of a marionette, out of control.

"Or maybe he's not the One at all – maybe he's an imposter, trying to hold onto the identity that he's been defined by. Just a waste of everybody's time, you know? To think, everything you guys have put your faith in, worked so hard for, is a lie. The lives of your crew, given for the sake of a party trick!"

His body curled up in the force as it scraped across the rubble, for it to cease. As the agony built, he uncoiled himself, to support himself on hands, for blood to spray from his mouth. Even a man reborn is still a man, completely and wholly made of flesh and bone, blood and tissue, and still prone to injury and decay, whether slow or irreversibly sudden – it was a fact that was no longer deniable, no matter the delusion.

'No!'

Trinity shook her head furiously, seethed between teeth and heaving breath as blood dripped from Neo's mouth. A stabbing ache poured into her chest.

'I was there, I saw him die – he was brought back, he came back for us! He wouldn't be here if he wasn't-!'

"That doesn't matter!" The voice barked, "Whether he's the One or not, he's not much of anything if he's still holding back! His words mean nothing if he can't even care to follow them through."

Her head bowed with the weight of the words and the impressions that they worked into the burden on her mind, until the presence by her side became her only support, as though she grew limp with a dreary submission. 'It can't be…' She husked dryly, 'he came back… he's here….'

"Look at him. What kind of man holds back in a fight, hm?" A soft irrepressible chuckle bounced free from its throat, "I'll tell you who: a man who _thinks_ he's going to fail…. He's already given up on himself, you should do the same. You have no need for a man that won't stand up for you."

'But… he _tried_, didn't he?'

"Tried and _failed, _Trinity. But, I'll offer you a compromise. The option is still open, and there's space for you. Join us, and you'll be in no doubt of your position, of the objective, of what you have to do."

'But… he… I love….'

"Why stay with a man like him? You can _try _and make things work, but you'll only destroy each other in the process. It's not worth the effort, so come on, what do you say, hm?"

Her eyes blurred with the loss of focus as the last thing she saw clearly was the man as he ground his fingers into the rock, the dirt and his blood, and grasped tight with a twisted look of frustration and pain, his teeth stained red as he gnashed them tight. He had regained his life, but what was that worth, when he was losing everything else?

-/\*_;)(-

The clang of metal reverberated through the top deck, marked the sound of their descent as both man and machine hit the floor. Each ring melded with the mechanical cries of the sentinels before him, a confirmation of the action that had been committed. It was a threat to be heeded, but Tank could not bear to face the fallen, not even at the moment of impact. He could only concentrate on the sound it produced, and as it faded, he forced his eyes open to face the sentinels as they ceased in their tangle of movement.

Each scarlet sensor flickered a warning – he didn't need to be a machine to pick up on that and, as claws clicked together, he could see it clearly. They dared him to take another step.

His brow drew in together, and as the smoke rose behind him, as the smell of fried metal and burnt flesh reached his nose, he focused his lightning rifles on the sentinels.

'You want them, you squiddy fucks?' He grounded out each word through heaved breaths and his gaze held steady. But in that next breath, he took a side step and put himself between the sentinels and the rest of the crew, 'You'll have to kill me too!'

The threat had been posed, and the sentinels gave a wrenched cry. They glided in for him, but he was ready to fight… to fall with his brother, but right now… he wasn't going to back down.

-/\*_;)(-

As Neo struggled to hold himself up, the Agent stepped forward and with an icy glare, towered over him. Even at metres away, the machine couldn't be suppressed – just seeing the man drip blood from his teeth was enough to encourage that stare that spoke of victory.

Roy stared in motionless defeat – this wasn't his battle, but even without bring in view of the Agent's face, he could sense the confidence. The machine's stance swelled with the assurance that he had overpowered his enemy; it was one he was familiar with. He'd seen it in the back of every soldier who had forced an Ishbalan to cower at his feet. It was the stance of a job well done, appreciated with a mechanical proficiency and inhuman acceptance that the military had always tried to employ in the midst of warfare, something that the machines employed with even greater skill and advantage.

But he couldn't let that stance be the signal flag for what would be the end of it. He shook his head furiously, refused to believe that man was capable of surrendering himself entirely to that fact.

_Come on, Neo… Get up dammit!_

Even as Neo threw Agent Smith a defiant glare, it couldn't be denied – caked in dust and mud, his chest rising and falling in palpitations, the blood running down his chin, flowing into the tainted mix of water and sweat, he was a picture of human weakness. The corner of the Agent's mouth flickered into a grin, he couldn't help it; Neo may have survived the first time, but he was going to finish the job. He knew he would do it well, shatter the man's body into pieces unfit for resurrection. If that's what it took, then he would see to it that the job was completed.

_Get up… Get up and move! Come on!_

Neo's gaze settled onto hers then, and their eyes met. At the sight of hers, they closed in defeat, of the narrow glare of another pair that hung by her side and warded him away. His face tightened then, his teeth gnashed beneath the ache and he pushed himself up from the rubble. The Agent's victory smile faded and his whole face seemed to drop, now helpless in the wake of human defiance.

It didn't make any sense to him to see this beaten man get up when defeat was certain, to see him straighten up, to wipe the blood away on the back of his hand. What was the point of trying to fight this losing battle? Why won't he just…? The Agent began to tremble. His whole body shook with frustration. The sky above was alight with a marked fire of his rage, but Neo tightened his fists, and threw out his arms, the rain drops scattered from around him.

He will fight with everything that the Agent can throw at him – he will withstand it all. He swung his arms out and, with legs apart, lowered with knees bent and brought his hands out in front, ready to take the next hit. His right hand twisted and, in a flick, beckoned to the Agent: _come at me, if you think you can win._

The Agent's face twisted. He couldn't take the mock, and he ran forward. He swiped the mocking hand away with the right, punched forward with the left. But Neo's arm twisted around it, brought it tight under his pit, and with the Agent caught, punched into his neck. The Agent tried to send in a punch for the abdomen, but Neo caught that one, and secured it tight to his other side. With a maddened glare, Neo struck both of his fists into Agent Smith's lower abdomen. It sent him doubled over, and with an uppercut to the Agent's chin, and he staggered back.

Roy stared on helplessly, but a smile started to swell onto his face, and his fingers tightened around the rocks of the rubble.

_He's going to win… he's actually going to win…!_

Neo broke into a run. He headed straight for the Agent. The machine had only just regained his footing, and as the man gained on him, he brought his arm back. The Agent screamed, all of his energy coiled into his fist as it surged forward. But it didn't meet contact.

Roy gaped on, just dared himself to believe it. Neo had just… he never knew it could be possible… but now he couldn't but believe, taking the Agent's reactions for what they were. They were confirmation that Neo… had just… disappeared into the flesh of the Agent.

Agent Smith twisted round, doubled over, and he stared around at every face with wide eyes. He was struck with such unnerving emotion, especially contorted onto the flesh of a machine. For the first time, Roy found himself staring into the eyes of an Agent who was completely stricken with fear. His arms drew into his chest, his body shook violently, and his eyes darted to his hands. Lumps bubbled from his fingers, travelled up his arm beneath the surface. He convulsed, the lumps now travelled up his neck, up into his face, and the Agent arched with bared teeth as each lump collected at the top of his swelling head.

With each building well of pressure, the skin broke, and revealed a stroke of light that poured out thinly and relieved the swell. It tore further down his face, down the centre, and it forked as suddenly as the cracks spread across his whole body. He threw his arms out, a scream wretched from his gaped mouth, the agony too much, and then, he was gone.

In the explosion of blinding light, Roy buried his face away from the scream, before it faded within the flash of emerald, and the light died along with it. He peered up then, as did the others, and in the centre of the room, Neo stood there, complete, still. The man, face down, fists tightened, pushed them down, and the whole room swelled, the walls bended outwards with his intake of breath. He threw his head back, he released the breath, and the walls rippled as they returned to a state of inanimate stillness.

Everything had fallen then to calm, and suddenly, the rain and cold didn't matter. The Agents were gone, and in those liberating moments the anxiety dissipated. Like a man whose sight had been restored, Roy blinked and stared, and he looked on in awe at the man as his doubt too disappeared from every corner of his mind. A feeling of comforting warmth spread through his chest, and his eyes, once wet, dried up with such an overpowering relief. He, like Neo, had died – with the destruction of Agent Smith, the doubter died, and in its stead, a believer was born.

_I believe…! Oh god… I believe!_

-/\*_;)(-

As a sentinel dropped beneath the power of the electrical ray, the sensors of the sentinels that remained began to flicker. Without a sound, they turned away from Tank in the whirs of a low hum as they began to glide towards the ceiling and through the hole that they had earlier ripped in the hull.

Tank stood there, breathless in the last sight of their tentacles as they disappeared behind the metal. In those last moments, they were gone.

Suddenly, the pain started to seep back, build with intensity as his heart rate began to slow in the relief. He dropped his lightning rifle to grasp his leg. His trouser leg was drenched with blood, and as it seized hold, he dropped down to his butt. He heaved erratically, swallowed in air in exhaustion, but as he glanced towards the crew, he frowned. There was no time to rest. It wasn't over.

-/\*_;)(-

Envy's back pressed up against the wall in a look of utter shock; his eyes bulged from his head as he tried to force his body into leaving the scene – anything to get away from the presence of the man stood before him. But, even for a monster of his reputation, that wasn't possible. He knew that already; it was all he could comprehend, and his mouth flapped open, his hands clenched around the rubble for support as he tried to force his body to stop trembling. That in itself was a task that zapped all of his strength, and with it, all the strength that he needed to stand. He could only sit on his butt; wait in some vain hope that scared even him that he wouldn't be the next one to perish in a gasp of rippling dust.

Without any motivation for trying to resolve his broken pride, he stared dumbly on the reason for his crippling fear, now stood in the middle of the room as a wave of calm seemed to wash over the man's body. The victory was clear, but serenely accepted, and as he opened his eyes he returned Envy's shaken glare with a steady strength.

Envy's body continued to tremble, his mouth flapped as though trying to voice some kind of retort, but the words never found their voice. They were bunged into silence by the very presence of the human – and all for the truth of that statement, he hated it all the more. He couldn't submit himself to the man's power, and so tried to sustain some eye contact, even though his whole body screamed for him to tear his gaze away completely. In his confusion, he conformed to neither, and ducked down from the man, and he ground his teeth with frustration. Neither could he bring himself to restore his infamy of intimidation – Neo could already sense that, and seeing no further use of standing there, turned on his heel towards Morpheus uninterrupted. That's when Envy gulped in the hard-earned truth – the man didn't even consider him a threat – that's how strong he was.

For Neo though, he could take as much time as he wanted, and as he knelt down beside him, he clasped his shoulder as Morpheus tried to sit himself up, though he struggled beneath the drowsy weight of the drug on his head. The giddiness of his mirth had faded, and all previous pain had become a muted blanket just beneath the surface – tender, but unpleasant, like a bruise.

'I-Is it over…?' Morpheus breathed with a dry mouth, his eyes scanned rapidly for some sense of finality.

Neo let a sigh escape, 'Not quite, but at least… the worst is over.' As he heard the rocks skitter behind him, his gaze fell from Morpheus, and he picked up on the clatter of footsteps that approached from behind. He turned up, and found Roy moving towards him on unsteady legs before he could reach his side. He nodded to him, acknowledgement, they could relax a little, and Roy dropped to his knees at Morpheus' other side as he still clutched at the right juncture of his shoulder.

Roy was taking care of Morpheus now, and as he brought his arm around Morpheus' shoulder, Neo pushed himself up to his feet, and turned then towards Trinity. His gaze settled on hers, and almost immediately, she clawed at the back wall for support, so that she could bring herself to stand in his presence. Her face was pale, and her movements were slow. Only then could Envy make the effort to follow suit, or at least, have the courage to without fearing for the loss of his life. The man's gaze was fixed on hers, and as he already knew – Envy wasn't a threat – he was safe for now.

The reason she stood wasn't because she had been compelled to by a command ushered in harsh tones. It was the gentle gaze of a forgiving nature that made her obey. It was a look that she felt she didn't deserve.

'Trinity…' Neo began, almost apprehensive, as though he was only a mere mortal as she had once known him to be. 'It's time to go back,' and with more certainty, offered his hand out to hers. It was a truth that he stood by, and for that, he couldn't bring himself to back down. Sure Agent Smith had terrified him almost senseless, but Trinity scared him most of all – he hoped she couldn't see him shaking.

But, it was a hand she felt she didn't deserve, 'No,' and she couldn't accept, as she focused her eyes on his. 'I've made my choice. I'm going to stay with Envy, in the Matrix.'

Envy spun round to face her, stared as though he couldn't believe the answer himself. As Roy lent support while Morpheus regained some of his footing, he stared at her hard. They all did. But Neo turned his face away, he glanced out of her gaze, before he screwed his eyes shut, to look straight at her again, ready to open his mouth.

'Why?' Roy growled, before Neo could interject, 'Doesn't the Resistance mean anything to you?'

She gulped, but with some pride left, Trinity straightened up, and folded her arms, 'I shouldn't have to tell you my reasons. I'm still First-Mate, and I'm still your superior.' Her eyes narrowed with her frown, and hoped to project the authority.

'So that's it?! After everything we've-!' But Roy was quickly silenced by a show of Neo's hand, and with a knitted brow, Neo took a step towards her.

'Then at least tell me, as your friend.' His eyes scanned hers, and he dared to step closer and even more so with unhopefully unnoticeable apprehension, until he was right before her. She lost her rigid stance then, and shifted back beneath his shadow, until her back was pressed against the wall. He looked so soft, and yet he….

_How can I stand up to you…? When I know what you're capable of…?_

Envy jerked forward between them then, found his words, "She doesn't have to tell you a damn-!"

'Shut up!' Neo roared, and Envy immediately shrank, 'She's choosing you over me! You've already won, so bite your tongue!' His eyes narrowed as Envy backed away from between them, 'Or I'll do it for you.' His fierce gaze left Envy's, and softened on contact with Trinity's, and with another step, he brushed her arm with his hand in a soothing motion. His voice dropped to a smooth hush, 'Why, Trin? After all this… after all we've been through….' She met his gaze, 'why do you want to leave?'

Her arms were still folded, and glancing away, she whispered, 'I don't know what to believe.'

A soft chuckle bounced from Neo's throat, a smile perked on his lips for all the good it would do, as though to soften the blow – for himself more than anything. 'That's no reason to leave. You know I'm not with him. You can still come back.' He implored, and smiled hopefully, but she didn't return his humour – she couldn't.

'And if you're lying?' And Neo's smile faded. 'If you're really with him.' she gulped and trembled as her eyes were doused with a shiny brightness, 'could you honestly put me through that torture?' She tried to blink the wetness away, but it only welled further, 'If you feel _anything _for me, you wouldn't do that.' Her voice dropped into a croak, 'I at least know that much.'

A sigh escaped Neo's lips – he couldn't deny what he had heard, but neither could he face her, 'You're right. Even if I hated you, I couldn't do that.' His hand fell from her arm, and stepped back as he brought his focus back on her, and spoke louder for the others to hear, 'When Morpheus offered me the red and blue pill, I was given the freedom of choice, just as you were.' He closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, before he released it, and found his sight, 'If you really want to leave, then I have no right to stop you. Go.'

Trinity stared for several moments, but she forced herself upright. She brought her arms to her side, and gave him a deep bow. Neo didn't know what to do, that was, until he heard a soft whimper coming from her lips – he strained to hear it, and catching the words, he was forced to lean back as she righted herself and turned round to Envy.

'Make a door, Envy. We need to leave, now.' She ordered sternly. Without a word, Envy turned round for the wall behind. Envy reached out for the scorched brick and seized his hand around the air, let the light build to form a surface. As the light faded, wood was left in its place and throwing it open, they stepped through into the glowing realm ahead. The light deconstructed the door just as quickly as it was built, and within seconds, they were gone from sight, out of their mind's eyes, and out of their lives. Only her words remained as they still lingered in his ears.

_I'm sorry._

-/\*_;)(-

The kid was dragged from the scene, his mask pulled free of his face and his wrists were bound tight in handcuffs. The female Caucasian though was left to lay in a pool of her own blood – it was already clear from the cyanosis; she's dead, and there was nothing that could be done for her, and for that, she would have to stay where she was. The perpetrators could still be upstairs, they could've made their escape, but she wasn't going anywhere.

The leader of the SWAT team stepped out from the circular chaotic and all eyes fell on him, and they waited on him to give orders. The death had to be ignored for now; mechanical obedience was a part of the job – that's just how it was.

The Leader pointed out towards five of the group, 'You guys split up and make a search of this floor! Some of the perps could still be down here! We can't let them escape!' With rifles in hand and quick nods, they rushed out of the foyer in an organised line, and headed towards a door. 'Thompson, you stay with the body while the paramedics get in here.' The orders were understood. 'Now, the rest of you, the kid said they were still up there. We'll head upstairs, before they try to make their way out!'

The rest of the team rushed out of the foyer, their rifles primed, and shields ready to protect from any oncoming threat. The adrenaline was already pumping hard through their systems, ready to fuel the next turn of their actions. They were closing in on the perpetrators, another successful mission was coming to the close.

-/\*_;)(-

A ringing vibration coursed through his pocket, and disturbed the silence that had soon followed with the departure. Not even the tone could force his eyes away from the back wall, from where she'd disappeared from sight completely. He let a sigh escape, he slid the cell and placed it to his ear.

'Operator?' Because who else could it be?

_'Damn, Neo. It's good to hear your voice.'_ A crackled chuckle dispersed into his ear, and a small smile perked on Neo's lips, now glad of the relief the familiarity of the voice brought.

'It's good to hear from you, too.' But he couldn't sustain the smirk for long, and just then he was glad he had his back to the others. 'What's going on?'

_'The SWAT are closing in on you. They'll be trying to come at you from all sides. If you want to get out, then now's the time to do it. But it's going to be tricky….'_

'Do we have an exit?' Neo frowned.

_'You can't get out through the front door, that's for sure. The fire escape's still open though, they haven't covered that route yet.'_

'Right.' Neo nodded.

_'Just be careful, Neo. They've already arrested Mouse – they'll be after you guys, too.'_

Neo screwed his eyes shut, they had still lost the crew, and there was nothing they could do, 'Don't worry about us.' He forced his eyes open, and a smile back on his lips, 'Just be ready to open up a line.' He pressed a button on his cell phone, and pushed it back into his pocket. It had hardly been over for a few minutes, and already he was feeling the pinches of defeat. There was no other way of putting it – they'd lost.

-/\*_;)(-

They tramped through the water that flooded the hall. Their torches shone, caught each swell of water that fell from the sprinklers and broke through the mottled darkness in the rush of the hunt. With each door they came to, one tore from the group and broke the door down, rifle pointed, the torch illuminated the room.

'Signs of a struggle in this one!' One of them shouted.

'Could be from the explosion! Keep searching!' Another ordered.

They rushed forward down, and immediately another dispersed as he caught sight of a partially open door. All it took was a quick flash of his torch, and he cried out, 'I've found something in here! Come look at this!' The group reformed, and they stepped into the room. All torches shone on the broken body that lay there before them, a woman in a white dress. 'Do you think she's one of them?'

'We can't know for sure.' The leader frowned.

'Geez, what is this?!' And he lit up the sight on the bed. The reflections of dark metal covered the bed's surface completely.

'These will have been smuggled in. This was definitely planned beforehand. She could have something to do with this.' The Leader turned then onto a couple of his men, and ordered them to stay in the room as surveillance. All of these arms needed to be taken in as evidence once forensics could get onto the scene. 'It doesn't look like they're on this floor! Head for the next floor! That's where they'll be!'

'Right!' They all joined in simultaneous accord, and they tramped out of the room, the splashes signalled their every step. In separate groups, they headed for the stairwells at each side of the hall – block their escape, while they're cornered.

-/\*_;)(-

They reached the jagged mouth of the wall, but then they heard it from both sides. They were caught between echoes of shouts that intermingled with the spray of water that rained down from the sprinklers. Stray flashes of light cut through the darkness that danced in their peripheral vision, and Roy caught sight of them, almost jumped in a surge of shock.

'Damn, we'll be caught for sure,' Roy breathed in a whisper, stared warily in case the light strayed closer to their position. 'Which way now?' Louder this time, so that Neo could hear.

Neo stared towards another jagged mouth, outlining the room across. The force of the bomb had dealt less damage to their own, but it was enough to open the room up to them, for him to catch the sight of a lightning glare that lit up a glimmer of opportunity.

'I've got an idea.' Neo affirmed, and grasping Morpheus' side tighter to lend support, led them on.

-/\*_;)(-

They charged onto the floor, slowed by the water that splashed at their ankles. With torches lit, they centred their beams onto the rubble that had fallen before. This was where the explosion had come from, as far as they understood the situation. Whoever the perpetrators were, wherever they were, they had been here, and they were the cause of it.

They shouted out for the perps to stop moving. They were under arrest, only, no one had heard them. They ran into the room, the centre of the damage, to find it empty of human life. Orders were given to keep searching, and every room on the floor was looked in to.

But, it had already started to dawn on them – every man could sense that the orders were being given in desperation. They had already escape, though they didn't know how, they were far too late.

-/\*_;)(-

His eyes opened to a yanking sensation at the back of his neck, and soon after the dark fog that had dawned on cleared away with an illuminated accuracy. He could already make out Tank's head as it bobbed close by, closer still as it worked off the straps. It was soon over, and as he made attempts to sit, Tank had already headed for Neo's side.

'Tank, leave him.' But an order was called out, and Tank jumped, caught by the croak of Morpheus' voice, 'Stem Edward's bleeding, now.'

'R-Right.' With rushed footsteps, Neo was left alone, for Tank to stride past Roy, and head down towards the bottom end of the row. Nearby, Morpheus had already made the effort to sit – he held his head in a silent strain of heavy breathing. But for Roy, the pain in the juncture of his right shoulder made any attempt strenuous.

'Buddy, a little help?' Roy turned then to face Neo at his left side, and winced at the ache that shot through at the movement. Neo had yet to be unplugged from his seat.

"Oh, sorry." Roy murmured, and slowly, slid down from his seat. Using Neo's seat to catch himself, he grabbed a hold of the jack, and with a mixture of exhaustion and uncertainty, twisted and pulled it free, before he loosened a strap at Neo's wrist. Just as he tried to reach for the other, Neo stopped him.

'You go and help Morpheus. I can do the rest.' Neo gave a forced smile, and with his free hand, freed the other.

Roy nodded, and as he turned, was faced with a pile of mechanical bodies where sentinels had forced a siege on the place, and in their failure, had themselves been laid to waste. Their tentacles tangled the way, and the large red disks of their sensors peered from their frames, dull, lifeless, and without power. He could only take in the full extent of the damage, and in doing so, found a large hole that had been made before the ladder and a mess of debris where the ceiling had been torn open as a reminder. Small mercies came at large costs – even though they held the victor for having survived, they had lost too much in the process. Where once there were ten sure members, only four were left standing.

"What the hell happened here?" Roy frowned, and he turned to Tank. The man was still attending to the stomach wound, while the body under his care shook with some resistance at the pressure being applied. With his gaze completely fixed on the boy, his lips flapped helplessly, almost glad now that he had a necessary distraction. He just couldn't bring himself to face Roy.

'Th-They got in through the hull. They must've spotted us in the worm-hole. They were… relentless.'

The words of the Agent reverberated in Roy's memory as his eyes scanned over the product of an unmistakable intention.

_We'll continue as planned, deploy the sentinels, immediately._

They wanted them dead, as simple as that.

'There were so many of them, I knew it would only be a matter of time before….' But Tank's voice strained, and he pressed down harder on the wound.

"Before what, Tank?" But the man didn't answer.

'Tank?' Morpheus' voice softened, 'Where's Dozer?'

Tank's gaze immediately met Morpheus', as though he was a child caught stealing sweets, and he gulped, glanced down to the side. Roy followed his line of sight, and found a body still connected to the metal cord of a sentinel, just as lifeless as the others.

Now he knew where the smell had been coming from. It was the familiar reek of burnt flesh, the tang and stick of fat residue as it settled on the lips. It was something he knew instinctually, he had seen it in the blackened faces of every corpse that had fallen by his hands in Ishbal and lost their lives, simply because his orders were absolute. Even by a glanced assessment, he could the burns made here were far too severe – even if the man had lived, there would be no chance of recovery, and it would be far kinder to end it all.

"Did the sentinels do this?"

'No, I did.' Tank answered, because it was true and he knew he couldn't escape his guilt.

Roy glared at him, "Why?" His eyes narrowed.

'You can quit it with that look.' Tank scowled. He ripped off another piece of cloth from his shirt, and pressed it down onto Edward's stomach, harder this time to calm the well of blood. 'It's not that I meant for this to happen. I had no choice.' He bared his teeth to keep control, but he couldn't stop his chest from seizing into sporadic hicks. 'One of the sentinels went for Edward, and Dozer threw himself into the line of fire.' He took in a deep breath, again to calm himself. 'He asked me, to destroy the sentinel – he gave his life, because he _believed. _Dozer… he believed the Ones will bring an end to the Machine War.'

Roy's gaze fell from Tank's. The blackened smoke, the whistle of soaring bombs had filled his ears, the screams of the victims they hit – it all came roaring back. He almost thought his mind would seize up, but he held himself together, his feet planted firmly to the floor, because it was all he could do to keep himself from falling back.

_They all believe, even Dozer – in everything they do, they have such faith in them. They want so much… to see the end of this war, but… who can blame them? War… it's…._

"Tsch, an end to the war?" Roy growled, and he found the body once again. His gaze focused on it, and he took in every sight it had to offer, because he couldn't – wouldn't let himself forget the face he once knew, the face it became, and the ones that would add to and bring this battle to its conclusion, if he ever lived that long…. "Fool. Only the _dead _have seen the end of war."

Author's Note: The quote I chose for the top was significant for me because, back in chapter 16, Morpheus asked Edward to promise him he would never go into the Matrix – by doing this, though we don't see it, this allows Morpheus to wipe his memory of the code to Zion Mainframe, and then give it to Edward. Edward is the Clier search-engine after all, he is a carrier of knowledge, and if you can upload knowledge into a persons mind in the Real world, then surely you can take it away? It's the same as deleting a downloaded song that you no longer like (or so the concept follows). Edward though breaks that promise and, in doing so, gets himself trapped when neither redpills or the Agents can get to him, meaning the codes are just as safe. Yes, he broke the promise, but it was a necessity if he was to save the other members of the crew.

The dialogue at the end, "Only the _dead_ have seen the end of war", I thought was a pretty apt way of ending the chapter. It's a saying that all soldiers know because, even if we do see an era of peace, once the war has ended, it's only inevitable in human nature that another war or tragedy will break out. To Roy, who has already been a part of the Ishbalan war, and even by its end, now finds himself fighting in the Machine war – basically, it never ends. Only those who die in battle can find peace in never having to face the battlefield. So as things stand, they can only hope that the Machine war will be the last one they'll face, that the end of this war will afford them long-lasting peace. Yes, it's only a hope, but it's worth fighting for if only to end the bloodshed.

Just as a manner of business, let me update on the crew's status: Morpheus is alive; Roy is alive; Tank is alive; Neo is alive; Dozer is dead; Edward is alive but trapped in the Beta-Matrix; Trinity is alive but working for Envy; Apoc is dead; Switch is dead; and Mouse is alive, but has been arrested by New York's finest. Oh, and Agent Smith is dead – lucky us.

It's a shame that Dozer has been killed in action, but I think it's necessary if only to drill home the fact that there are people out there willing to die for their cause. They believe so much that what they're doing is right, and so it's only right that the crew push on, even after enduring the fatalities that they have. Yes, Trinity has decided to work for Envy, and that's a real shame considering that they went to this great risk to rescue her, but at the same time, they need to keep moving forward. If they can get through it, then the sacrifices will mean something. I'm also pleased that Roy, who has been such a big doubter in these chapters, has finally reached a natural climax of finally accepting belief. When a man can be killed and then raised back to life, that's not something you ignore. It's a big leap of faith for Roy to have this kind of belief, so I'm glad that he's taking the risk and has made the progress – this coming from a ruthless author who kills a lot of characters off. Like I said, without sounding psychopathic, they're necessary, otherwise too many characters will be too much to handle through the growing course of this story. More things will happen, more characters will join the fray, things will happen, in big ways! That's why I'm excited and determined to carry on with this.

Now, how about I start drawing some Supernatural art hm? In any case, the hiatus won't stop me from writing omakes for the story, so hopefully I'll be able to write some up soon. Stay tuned, and thanks for reading as far as you have.


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